


Plaid & Prada

by surena_13



Category: The Expanse (TV)
Genre: AU, F/F, basically all the ladies are queer, slow-burn, what more could you want? ;), why yes it's a Devil Wears Prada AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:06:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 67,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24608170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surena_13/pseuds/surena_13
Summary: After being in the army, Bobbie wants to be a journalist, but without training or a decent portfolio, the only job she can get in publishing is working as an assistant. She lands at a job at the last place she or her friends expected her to, a fashion magazine with a very demanding and very attractive boss.But she only needs to do this job for a year and then she can get her career launched. It should be easy. Right?
Relationships: Camina Drummer/Naomi Nagata (mentioned), Chrisjen Avasarala/Bobbie Draper
Comments: 112
Kudos: 118





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo, this is a Devil Wears Prada AU minus the douche boyfriend and dick-ish friends and with more queers. Does it make sense with the Expanse universe? Probably not, but here it is anyway. Blame it on my lockdown brain. The fic is already done, so it should be updated regularly. 
> 
> A massive thanks to cheekymonkey06 for checking out this madness for typos and such! And also to runawaynun for being my soundboard throughout all of this. 
> 
> This is the longest fic I have ever written and my first slow burn, so let me know if you like it or not :)

Bobbie dragged a brush through her hair. It was clearly in a mood today. Normally she’d just stick her head under the shower and try to get it under control. But today she didn’t have the time. A bun it was then. It was what she preferred anyway. No hassle, no hair getting in her face at the most inopportune moments. Except at a fashion magazine, they’d probably prefer style over comfort and common sense. Oh well.

Shrugging a blazer over the only blouse she owned that wasn’t embellished with patches or made out of flannel, Bobbie took quick glance in the mirror. She looked more put together than usual. But despite her knowledge of Runway only extending to what she had managed to research on the internet, she figured there was a big chance she would stand out like sore thumb. Her clothes didn’t exactly scream fashion and she definitely didn’t look like a model.

“Good luck with your interview,” Alex said as he handed her a thermos with steaming hot coffee. He looked like he had slept about three hours, his hair sticking out at odd angles.

“Didn’t I tell you not to wake up especially for this?” Bobbie asked incredulously. Ever since she had gotten the invitation for the interview, she had been telling her roommate not to change his schedule for her. His work at the gastrobar was grueling as it was. Interrupting his sleep for her, for an interview for a job she probably wouldn’t even get, was ridiculous.

“Eh, you know me. Couldn’t let you go without some decent coffee. That black goo you normally drink would kill a regular person.” His coffee was ridiculously good. With the same machine he managed to make his taste like a barista had made it whereas hers, well it tasted like shit. But the caffeine did the trick.

“Thanks.” She chucked the thermos in her bag where she spotted her resume, neatly typed up and printed out and suddenly she felt nervous. What was she even doing, applying for a job at the biggest fashion magazine of the world. She should have just gone to Autoworld instead. Not that she was a grease monkey in the slightest, but maybe she’d fit in more there. Too late now. Closing her bag, she slung it over her shoulder and smiled at Alex.

“Go get ‘em, tiger.” His encouragement was immediately followed by a huge yawn. Bobbie shook her head. He was one of her best friends and she loved him, but he was being absurd. If she had learned anything from her time in the army, it was that a proper amount of sleep was a necessity. She really hoped he wouldn’t end up cutting himself or nodding off over a pot of boiling water.

“Go back to bed, you idiot.”

“Yeah yeah.” Bobbie resisted the urge to blow him a kiss and opted for a little wave instead as she disappeared from the apartment.

* * *

The Mao-Kwikowski name gleamed huge in the lobby. Bobbie narrowed her eyes. Jules-Pierre Mao was a publishing giant, but this seemed a bit much in terms of stroking one’s own ego. She would have thought that big building with over fifty floors and a near equal amount of magazines and various publication housed inside would have been enough. Men with power, she would never understand them.

After being issued a visitor’s badge, Bobbie beeped herself in and joined the people who were there, rushing to their jobs. She tried to remember the research she had done to calm herself. The little facts about the magazine, its age, how it had changed over the years, the influence it had, the award-winning authors it had attracted, basically anything that wasn’t fashion. There were just so many designers and she didn’t have clue what was good or terrible anyway.

Taking a deep breath, Bobbie calmed herself as the elevator doors slid open and the exact women she had pegged to be working at Runway exited before she did, the sound of their impossibly high heels echoing in the lobby. Bobbie watched them disappear down the clean hallways. The women, they were all so different, but at the same time, they were all gorgeous. It made her wonder if you had to have the face of a model to work here, because if she did, she felt her odds at getting this job getting even smaller.

God, even the woman at the desk was beautiful and she had a kind smile as she looked up at Bobbie with just a hint of confusion in her eyes. She couldn’t blame her. “I have an appointment with Camina Drummer.”

“Roberta Draper?” A small, thin woman with a lot of black eyeshadow and a severe face had appeared. The grey dress she was wearing looked as if it were painted on her. She looked like someone Bobbie really didn’t want to fuck with, despite being half her size. An expression of disbelief was on her face as she slowly took in Bobbie’s outfit. It wasn’t terrible, but compared to what she had seen the women who worked here wore, she might as well have been wearing a potato sack. 

“Bobbie, but yes, that’s me.” Camina rolled her eyes. Bobbie swallowed. This was a fantastic start to a job interview. And this Camina Drummer seemed to agree with her as she gestured for her to come closer.

“It’s going to be that kind of day then. Follow me.” Bobbie readjusted her bag and did as she was asked, following her down white hallways, covers of Runway framed on its walls. The faces ranged from models that seemed vaguely familiar to actresses Bobbie had definitely seen in movies. She wondered if any of them ever came to these offices. “Chrisjen has two assistants. I used to be the second, now I’m the first.”

“So you’re finding your own replacement?”

“Trying to. The previous one left crying and the other two were just incompetent. Chrisjen expects you to do anything and remember everything. Your days, weekends are no longer yours. She calls and asks you to jump, you are already supposed to know how high.” Bobbie’s research had told her that Chrisjen Avasarala wasn’t an easy woman. She had a quite reputation for demanding perfection. Clearly she expected even more from her assistants.

“Okay, high pressure job, I get it.”

“You really don’t. On paper it may sound like it’s just making sure Chrisjen has her tea and running errands, but it is much more than that. You work a year for Chrisjen, you can get a job at any publication you want. This is a job a million girls would kill for and some days that will almost be literally, but I saw on your resume that you served in the army, so you might actually get that aspect.” Before Bobbie could open her mouth to ask if Camina was going to interview her or just lecture her, the woman’s phone signaled a text. She watched as her face went from an impassive disinterest to an annoyed frown. “Oh fucking hell.”

“Bit early in the day to start cursing.” Bobbie whipped around. She hadn’t seen any men up until that point. She caught herself being prejudiced, because where she had expected some extremely gay man, thin enough that she could push him over with a single finger and probably wearing something bright, the man who dropped a few shoeboxes at the empty assistant’s desk was built like a brick and wearing all black, from his leather shoes to the most stylish bomber jacket she had ever seen.

“It’s Chrisjen. She’s on her way.” Camina disappeared into what looked like a kitchenette off to the side of the assistants’ desks, walking faster than Bobbie had thought possible in those shoes.

“She’s supposed to be having her manicure right now.”

“Yeah, and her manicurist went and broke her wrist. The appointment was canceled at the last minute.”

“Imperfect nails, last minute cancelation. What a great way to start the day.” Sarcasm was dripping from his voice. He turned towards the hallways and if Bobbie hadn’t been trained to not be scared of sudden noises, she would have jumped at the way suddenly shouted at the employees. “Listen up, the queen is about the enter her castle, so suit up.”

It was like a bomb had exploded. Bobbie barely had the time to realize that whoever he was had an interesting way of talking about his boss before utter chaos erupted. People started walking at faster speeds, cleaning up tables, touching up makeup. It was impressive and terrifying at the same time. If they were that afraid of their boss, it didn’t bode well for Bobbie, sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Who are you?” The man was sizing her up, his face mostly neutral. He did a better job at hiding that she didn’t belong there than anyone else. He did seem a tad amused, but Bobbie couldn’t tell if that was because she was so out of place or because it was fun to see someone looking different from models in this building.

“Let’s not get into that.” Camina interrupted as she walked past them carrying a tray with a delicate looking tea set.

“I’m Bobbie.”

“Cotyar. She is going to have fun with you.” He left before Bobbie could even ask him what the hell he meant. He had almost made it sound like his boss was going to eat her alive. It was kind of a lot to handle, all of it and she hadn’t even been interviewed by anyone yet. Camina brushed past her, zigzagging between all the people, leaving Bobbie to stand there, feeling a little lost.

Suddenly, as if someone had given them a signal, everything calmed down and the Runway offices sounded like a regular office once again. Phones ringing, people talking in a normal tone, bent over laptops and pictures. It was the opposite of the calm before the storm. Bobbie had to wonder at the efficiency of letting the office become a mess if they knew their boss wasn’t going to like it anyway, but a sound made her shift her attention.

A soft voice floated down the hallway, low, raspy, hypnotic. It made Bobbie think of smoke-filled bars and aged whiskey. She had seen pictures of Chrisjen Avasarala, but she hadn’t thought a voice like that could belong to a woman like her. And then she rounded the corner, the infamous dragon lady in all her glory, rattling off instructions to Camina who was furiously typing on her phone. This was the woman that apparently inspired an entire office to run around like mad people to get everything in order for her arrival.

Bobbie’s first thought was that she was tiny. She had terrifying reputation according to the little research Bobbie had done, and she had somehow expected her to be tall. Her second thought was that out of everyone she had seen today, Avasarala was by far the most beautiful. The pictures had not done her justice. Bobbie could only stand there and watch, her hands behind her back as the older woman starting taking off her coat, her movements graceful as she continued giving instructions.

“Call Arjun and remind him that we have a parent-teacher conference at 6 and dinner planned at 8. Tell him he can see Kiki in between. Let Galliano know that if he ever manages to insult an entire race again, I don’t give a fuck how nice his knitwear is, it won’t be in my magazine. And I need to see Cotyar immediately about that Viola Davis shoot. Who is that and why is she standing at attention?”

Bobbie blinked, surprised. Avasarala had seemed so busy doing, well, everything, Bobbie didn’t think that she had even been noticed, considering the woman hadn’t so much as glanced at her. She still didn’t as she moved into her office, leaving Bobbie to subtly watch how she moved in the tight black skirt she was wearing. The sway of her hips was tantalizing.

“An applicant for the second assistant job. I will take care of it.” Camina replied dismissively. Bobbie peaked around the corner and saw Avasarala raise an eyebrow at Camina as she sat down. Bobbie couldn’t help but wince. That was an intimidating look if she ever saw one.

“You ‘took care of it’ three times already and it didn’t work out. Send her in and fuck off.” Bobbie raised her eyebrows. What the hell was that? Who told their employees to fuck off? Not that it didn’t sound good with a voice like that, but even so, what the fuck? Camina didn’t seem fazed at all as she exited the office and motioned for Bobbie to get her ass inside. Oh great. An interview with an assistant had turned into a wholly unprepared interview with the woman who ran the entire magazine.

Shit.

Straightening her spine, Bobbie walked into the office. Avasarala wasn’t paying attention to her. Instead she was pouring herself a cup of tea before sitting down and crossing her legs. Bobbie just waited and watched, not really knowing whether she should announce her presence or not. It did give her the perfect opportunity to look at the woman and establish that she was still incredibly beautiful and it hadn’t been a fluke.

The deep emerald of her blouse seemed to make her glow or maybe it was the way her hair framed her face and fell over her shoulders and down her back. The long, gold necklace she was wearing disappeared into her cleavage and Bobbie swallowed. If, by some miracle, she managed to land a job here, it was going to be a problem being around Avasarala. Women like that were her weakness, older, beautiful, unattainable and no doubt straight as an arrow.

Finally, Avasarala looked up at here, dark eyes on her face instead of taking in her outfit like everybody else had done. It was refreshing and a little terrifying. She held Bobbie’s gaze as she placed a pair of reading glasses on her nose. She turned her attention towards her laptop before she spoke. “Who are you?”

“Bobbie Draper, ma’am. I studied journalism while I was in the army. I kept a blog that gained some traction while I was abroad, but I want experience with an actual publication and this seemed like a challenge I would like to tackle.” She also just really wanted a job that had something to do with journalism, no matter how weak the link. Anything was better than customer service. Avasarala didn’t look up from her work.

From the moment Bobbie had set foot in this building, it had been one of the weirder days of her life and that clearly wasn’t going to change anytime soon. No matter what happened, she could file this as an interesting experience. She had never been interviewed by anyone who wasn’t even paying attention to her.

“Why? You don’t read Runway. I’m certain you didn’t know me until you googled me a few days ago.” Busted. She had heard the name Avasarala before, but a quick read of Chrisjen Avasarala’s Wikipedia page had told her that the editor in chief was from a political dynasty and she had been the first in a few generations who had chosen a different career path. Bobbie had read about her father during history class, about his work and his assassination, but she really hadn’t realized that his daughter was the one in charge of Runway until the internet had told her so.

“I don’t and I didn’t. But –”

“And you don’t care about fashion.” Bobbie looked at the woman in front of her, from the gold earrings to the tip of red-soled heels, the outfit she was wearing probably cost more than Bobbie would care to think about. Compared to her, most people would look like they had no fashion sense. Especially when they really didn’t.

“Not really,” she replied with a shrug. Her clothes served their purpose. She wasn’t naked and she was comfortable. She was terrified of what any of the people working here would think about the rest of her closet. They’d probably have a stroke at the sight of some her leftover camo.

“That wasn’t a question, not even a rhetorical one.” Somewhere, Bobbie knew she should feel offended at that. But Avasarala looked at her over the rim of her glasses and she felt just little of her rational thought die. “The previous three new Camina’s were fucking inadequate and they had been reading Runway religiously for years. What makes you think you’re more qualified than them?”

“Being a good assistant isn’t dependent on my knowledge of fashion. I’m a fast learner, I have discipline and I want this job. I know I can handle this job. So hire me, because I can do the work, or don’t, because I don’t care about fashion.” She raised her chin defiantly, but wasn’t surprised that Avasarala didn’t seem impressed. She seemed the same as before, barely interested in what was happening.

Bobbie was convinced she had ruined her chance at working at this publication. Avasarala wasn’t exactly the type of woman to condone someone talking to her like that. But the editor took of her glasses and she looked intrigued, for lack of a better word. Her gaze had Bobbie pinned to the spot. She didn’t even dare to move, she just allowed Avasarala to look at her, silently judging her. It felt like it lasted hours, when it probably only lasted a few seconds.

The moment was broken when Cotyar appeared and started talking immediately, not caring that Bobbie was standing there. Avasarala held her gaze a little bit longer, even as Cotyar dropped a stacked of photographs on her desk. Finally, the older woman looked away, focusing her attention on what looked like pictures of Viola Davis. Bobbie felt like she could breathe again. She also had no idea what the hell had just happened if she had gotten the job.

She was about to just leave quietly when Avasarala spoke without looking up from the photographs she was leafing through. “Have Camina take you to HR. You start Monday. But, let me down, and your lack of style will be least of your problems.”

Bobbie forgot how to breathe for a moment. She was hired? She actually got a job _here_? She almost asked Avasarala for confirmation, but she was already back to looking at the pictures while Cotyar looked over her shoulder. Bobbie just nodded with a smile and backed out of the office. Cotyar made eye contact before she turned around, amusement in his eyes. “Since when do you hire assistants that wear Doc Martens?”

“Since it’s none of your fucking business. Now the Viola shoot, delete the photographer’s name from our contacts. He clearly couldn’t find his ass if someone pointed it out to him. Organize a reshoot. Get Olaf.” Bobbie so much lighter, she didn’t even care that Cotyar clearly hated her shoes. The fashion goddess, dragon lady had hired her, personally. She had a job, in publishing. It was probably going to be grueling, but it was definitely a start for her career.

“Apparently you’re supposed to take me to HR,” Bobbie told Camina. The first assistant pursed her lips, but it didn’t look unkind. Bobbie didn’t care either way. She could deal with any kind of adversity Monday. Today, she was going to enjoy this.

“Impressive,” Camina said flatly, sounding anything but impressed. Maybe she was just not looking forward to training a fourth second assistant. “First thing you should know, it’s Chrisjen. Not ma’am, or Miss Avasarala, just Chrisjen.”

* * *

The second thing had apparently been that Bobbie should never ever call Camina by her first name. Only the guy who had partly raised her and Chrisjen did that, to everyone else, she was Drummer. And then there had been a whole laundry list of things Bobbie had attempted to remember and save to her phone. She had a feeling that the first week was going to be trial by fire and there was not much she could do about that now. Right now, she was going to enjoy her new found employment and drink with her friends at the gastrobar where Alex worked.

“You got a job at a fashion magazine? How?” Bobbie had no idea Naomi’s voice could even go that high. It was kind of the reason she hadn’t told her friends, other than Alex, that she was going to interview at Runway. They would have had her checked for insanity. Well, Naomi would have. Amos usually just kind of accepted whatever was thrown at him.

“I haven’t got a clue.”

“No offense, but you don’t exactly dress like someone who reads Runway. Or has ever even bought a copy of it,” Amos commented, taking in Bobbie’s outfit as she leaned back in her chair. She had swapped what she had wrongly deemed appropriate clothes for the interview for something more casual. She was pretty sure someone at Runway would call security on her if she turned up for work like this. Naomi had once aptly called it dyke chic, though it wasn’t that chic.

“Absolutely not, yet here I am.”

“Do you even own more than one pair of jeans that doesn’t have holes in them?” Naomi tugged at one the tears in the pair she was currently wearing, doubt written on her face.

“Yep. I went shopping this afternoon.”

“Well, that’s something.” Naomi seemed ready to say more about her style, or lack thereof, which Bobbie didn’t think was all that fair. Naomi always looked put together, but that was because she mostly wore the same thing every day. But with her mohawk and the tattoos, she did make for an interesting sight. Thankfully, Alex appeared with some of his homemade cheese sticks and four new crafts beers and stopped whatever Naomi was going to say.

“Ah ignore them. You kick ass at everything you do. I’m sure even the dragon lady will be impressed.” Bobbie grinned. She knew she was roommates with him for a reason, other than the coffee.

“I will drink to that.”

“It’s a job, it pays the bills, doesn’t get much better than that,” Amos added, grabbing a cheese stick and promptly burning his fingers. Naomi rolled her eyes at him, but grabbed his hand to make sure he was alright all the same.

“And no doubt the women are all pretty.” Alex’s tone was more than a little suggestive and Bobbie sighed. He was a sweet guy, but after one spectacularly failed marriage, he had shifted his interest in women towards the more midlife crisis types, meaning young and pretty, not that he had had much success.

“I thought we had already decided that our Bobbie was a disaster gay. She probably wouldn’t even realize a woman was interested in her if she had her tongue down her throat.”

Bobbie chose to ignore that and focused her attention on Alex instead. Now was not the time to discuss her love life or very distinct lack thereof. “Yes, they’re all beautiful. No, I will not set you up with anyone.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“You were thinking it.”

“What’s the dragon lady like?” Amos asked, his mouth full of cheese. Naomi grimaced, but she had long since given up on making him a bit more civilized. Bobbie sipped her beer and tried to ensure that the first word out of her mouth wasn’t ‘beautiful’ because that would give the lot of them enough ammunition to tease her for the rest of the year. Even though it would be accurate to describe her like that.

“Small. I expected someone larger than life, but she is tiny. But terrifying. Everybody is afraid of her. You should have seen the panic when she arrived earlier than expected. And the way she rattled off instructions. She doesn’t look scary, but she is. Pretty sure my CO could learn a thing or two from her about radiating authority.”

“I’m glad I’m my own boss. I could never work under anyone like that.” Bobbie was well aware of Naomi and her lacking ability to deal with authority, but she was insanely talented with technology, it was as if it spoke to her. So she had her own one woman business doing, well Bobbie was never sure once the technobabble started, but companies wanted her. She used the money she made to help out projects in less fortunate neighborhoods.

“Not everyone is lucky like that. Maybe it’ll be fine. I am used to a strict hierarchy after all.” What she wasn’t used to was feeling intimidated by someone, especially someone who looked like Chrisjen Avasarala. She would just have to get used to it. Besides, she’d only have to last for a year. She’d seen active combat. How bad could this be?


	2. Chapter 2

Bobbie had thought she’d be able to hit the ground running on Monday. She had set her alarm clock at an ungodly early hour, laid out her clothes and prepared her bag. It hadn’t mattered. Drummer had called her before her alarm had a chance to go off, immediately throwing a whole laundry list of coffee orders and one specialty tea order that she apparently needed to get at some niche shop that was ‘only two doors down from Starbucks’.

Said teashop had in fact been half a block down from Starbucks, but thankfully she had been taught to be nice to people in the service industry so the barista had been more than willing to help point her in the right direction. She prayed she remembered the order right and resolved to put a notepad beside her bed the next day. And set her alarm even earlier.

“You took your time,” Drummer said dryly when Bobbie burst through the doors into the assistants’ area. She could hear the soft tones of Chrisjen’s voice in her office and inwardly groaned. Great, her boss was already here. She had been so set on being here earlier and show her enthusiasm for the job, her willingness to do her best. Clearly that had failed. Dammit. Drummer immediately relieved her of the tea and walked into Chrisjen’s office without another word, leaving Bobbie to carefully put down the rest of the drinks and take in the desk she would be working from as she shrugged off her jacket.

“I’m sorry,” she started when Drummer returned. “I didn’t know we had to be here quite that early and then security had some trouble finding my badge. It wasn’t - -.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’ll be playing catch up the first week, probably more. Just do better and save your excuses. I don’t have time for them and she won’t want to hear them.” Bobbie snapped her mouth shut. Okay then. No excuses and no more fuck-ups, got it. Now she just needed to figure out how to avoid the latter. Bobbie slumped behind her desk and watched as Drummer picked up one of the coffee, black with a hint of vanilla just as Cotyar appeared and picked up his own coffee. 

“Let me guess, Drummer here was your wake-up call.”

“What gave it away?”

“You look more haphazard than yesterday and she gets that smug look in her eyes.” Drummer made a gesture that Bobbie had never seen before but she could guess that it wasn’t anything good. Cotyar didn’t seem to care. “At least being sent to all corners of Manhattan will be easy in those shoes.”

“What’s wrong with my boots?”

“Nothing if you work in construction. Good luck on your first day, Red.” He couldn’t have sounded less sincere if he had tried. And red? Where the hell did that come from?

“It’s your blouse. It sticks out,” Drummer said curtly. Bobbie looked down. It was just a red flannel blouse, nothing special about it. But she supposed against the clean white walls of the office and next to the sharp lines of Drummer’s tailored grey jumpsuit, it stuck out. Great. Red it was. She supposed he could have come up with something a lot worse. She sighed as she sat down at her desk and jumped when Drummer dropped a box in front of her.

“Never be without that. She can and will call you at all hours when she needs you. And one of us should always man the phones.” Bobbie looked at the clunky black phone on her desk. Landlines? Why not just set up a system where calls always went through the assistants on business hours? It seemed dated compared to the brand-new iPhone she had just been handed.

“What happens if I’m the phone and Chrisjen calls on this one?” Drummer gave her a look that said “figure it out”. Alright then.

“Chrisjen’s schedule is on that, as well as what she requires for lunch every day and I’m tired of training the new me, so I’ve added what time of the day she wants tea and what type. Don’t expect me to be that nice again.” Nice was not a word Bobbie would associate with Drummer. She seemed efficient, ambitious and someone who preferred to work alone, but not nice or friendly, especially with that heavy eyeliner and her hair pulled back tightly. But maybe she was just being distant until Chrisjen gave her stamp of approval on Bobbie.

Bobbie still had more questions like what she was even supposed to do other than answering the phone and getting Chrisjen lunch or tea when a group of Runway employees filed out of Chrisjen’s office. Some definitely gave Bobbie a questioning look, probably wondering what a woman like her was doing at the second assistant’s desk, but Bobbie just looked back, not willing to be intimidated by some well-dressed and good-looking people.

“Bobbie.” Speaking of being intimidated by a beautiful, well-dressed person. Her heart started beating a little faster at the sound of Chrisjen’s voice. She had better not be developing a crush on her boss already. She could feel Drummer’s eyes on her as she made her way into the dragon’s lair. Chrisjen was standing off to side looking at what Bobbie assumed were about a thousand silk scarves. She turned to look at Bobbie and in that moment Bobbie realized that even though she had thought about the woman often since she had last seen her, her memory of her was nothing compared to the real thing.

“There you are. What the fuck took you so long?” Bobbie opened her mouth to reply, but apparently the question didn’t warrant an answer. “Go down to Hermès and get me 20 additional scarves, ones without floral designs this time. Get 15 from Cartier and Dolce & Gabbana as well. And go to the depot and ask me where the fuck my Jan Jansen shoes are. Don’t leave without them.”

Bobbie blinked, wishing she had taken a notepad in with her or her phone or anything, Shit. Chrisjen tilted her head as if she were looking at a confused animal. “Why are you still here? Fuck off.”

Rushing out of the office, Bobbie knew her face had to be red. She had wanted scarves from Hermès and, oh shit. Drummer looked up from her laptop and sighed, no doubt disappointed in Bobbie. “Do you have a photographic memory?”

“What? No.”

“Then use your phone to take notes. And don’t even think about using a speech to text app. The cadence of her voice doesn’t work with those. Now think. What did she want?”

With Drummer’s somewhat reluctant help, she was able to piece together what Chrisjen had wanted and found herself moving through the city in an Uber, wishing the damn thing could fly. Chrisjen didn’t seem like a patient woman and this seemed to take forever. It didn’t help that Drummer called her three times to add more things to her list. But with every high end shop or studio she entered, Bobbie put on a brave face and smiled, trying to be as friendly as possible. And despite the looks she got when she said she worked for Chrisjen Avasarala, everybody was glad to help her.

Drummer just pursed her lips when she burst back into the front office, carrying boxes and bags. She picked a few boxes from the pile and carried them into Chrisjen’s office. Bobbie dumped the rest on her desk and started sorting them. Scarves with scarves, ridiculous shoes with ridiculous shoes, only wondering once how she ended up doing this for a living. And it was only her first day.

“Lunch break is half an hour, I’m going on mine. You stay here.” Drummer grabbed the few garments bags and left, no doubt dropping them off at the famous Closet she had mentioned on the day of her interview. Bobbie had the sudden need to salute her, but decided against it and just sunk down in her chair instead, letting her head fall into her hands. Okay, so her first day could be going better. Could be going worse too.

“Ready to give up already? I thought you military types were good at following orders.” Bobbie looked up. Cotyar, of course. Didn’t he have anything better to do? She thought he was the creative director which essentially made him only a hair less important than Chrisjen. But here he was, peeking inside the shoeboxes and apparently approving of what was in there.

“We are and I’m not a quitter.” She wasn’t going to let fashion get her down of all things, even if fashion was turning out to be tougher than she had expected.

“Good to know. I think Drummer might actually kill someone if she has to deal with another interview and training process.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that,” she muttered, although she was sure Drummer would still wear that impassive expression and make sure the body wasn’t found. She could probably give some of the people in her old unit a run for their money.

“No, we wouldn’t. She’s competent, probably one of the best assistants Chrisjen has ever had.”

“Got any more uplifting things to say?”

“Normally, no, but for you, sure. Keep your head up, Red. She smells weakness. Come by my office when it’s your lunchbreak.” Was that an invite to have together? It didn’t matter. She was already the odd one out, if Cotyar wanted to have lunch together, at least she wouldn’t be sitting alone.

“Yes, sir,” she said with a small smile. Cotyar gave her a terrible attempt at a salute and disappeared from the office carrying the boxes of shoes that looked more like something alien than actual shoes. Her moment of peace and quiet was short lived when the phone rang.

“Chrisjen Avasarala’s office.”

* * *

“I am not wearing heels,” Bobbie said as she walking into Cotyar’s office and saw a pair of pumps in her size on his desk. Cotyar looked up, putting the pencil he was holding behind his ear. His office was a mess of clothes, pictures and papers. It had an air of organized chaos and it suited him she decided. But the pumps were a big no. She was tall enough already.

“What on earth makes you think these are for you?” Oh. Whoops. With all the looks and sly comments she had received during the day, she had sort of been expecting someone to try and make her over and he had been the most likely candidate. Apparently she had been wrong. Thank god. She was comfortable as she was.

“You and your hatred for my boots.”

“I don’t hate your boots. But I do think they don’t belong here. Come on, let’s go get lunch.”

“Why do you even want to have lunch with me?” Bobbie asked when they were in the elevator. He was successful, fashionable, had Chrisjen’s ear, so why would he want to get closer? It was pretty clear everybody assumed she wasn’t going to last long. It seemed like a waste of a time for a man with a very demanding job.

“Because you’re new and different and despite your painfully lacking sense of style, you seem interesting.”

“You work with interesting people every day.” Bobbie assumed anyway. She had heard some big names dropped and she knew famous people were on the cover every once in a while. She was just little old her, former military wanting to be a journalist. She didn’t think she was that interesting, not compared to the international superstars he had to have met over the years of working at Runway.

“I do, but they’re people who are part of my industry or industry-adjacent. You aren’t. I can’t quite figure you out.”

“And when you do?”

“I’ll either like you and we’ll get drunk and harp on our tough boss or I won’t like you and we’ll just be colleagues.” Cotyar stated it in a very matter of fact way and that actually made her respect him a little more. He wasn’t vague or minced words, he was very frank and she like that. No bullshitting.

“Seems fair, in a weird way.” She looked around the cafeteria as they sat down with their food and took in the crowd. It wasn’t hard to figure out who worked at Runway in this mixed Mao-Kwikowski group. They all just looked so perfectly put together, more than the average person working in this building did.

“Good.” Cotyar granted her a smile and really, he wasn’t her friend yet, but he was the first person to be actually nice to her. She decided then and there to like him, even if he hadn’t made up his mind about her.

“I was somehow expecting everybody to be picking away at a salad without dressing,” Bobbie said after conspicuously looking at her colleagues’ lunch. She had gone for something filling, a good soup, a taco, but she had expected that she would be the only one of the Runway people to go for something less healthy. It took her a beat to realize that all the preconceived notions they had about her, she had some about people in the fashion industry as well and a hint of shame hit her. Cotyar didn’t seem to mind her prejudice that much, luckily.

“It used to be like that. Thankfully fashion changed. Or we changed it anyway. Less size zero, more celebrating diversity.” That was, good, interesting. The magazine did have a woman of color at its helm who didn’t have the stick thin figure that was associated with fashion. Chrisjen being responsible for changing that a little actually made Bobbie admire her just a bit.

“Does that show in your magazine?”

“Still haven’t picked up a copy, huh?” Cotyar said and grinned when Bobbie felt her cheeks heat up.

“I’ll give you a few issues before the end of the day. Consider them homework.” He had barely finished his sentence when the phone rang. Bobbie quietly ate as Cotyar had what seemed like a very one-sided conversation, sighed and hung up.

“Chrisjen moved the run-through up.” He got up, grabbing his and her tray to drop them off. Bobbie followed him, frowning that he had taken her lunch. So? She had the run-through in her calendar, it wasn’t for another hour. How much could she have even moved it up? 

“To?”

“Now. Let’s go.” Oh shit. Why would she move it up to a time that fell during lunchtime and then not give them enough time to even get back to the office?

“Well, it’s scheduled to start in fifteen minutes, which is now in Chrisjen time. She always ridiculously early to anything. And if she is there, the show can start, doesn’t matter who is missing.” The elevator doors opened and a distinguished Asian man stood in front of them. It took Bobbie only a second to realize she was looking at Jules-Pierre Mao.

“Monsieur Mao,” Cotyar said as he entered the elevator. Mao gave him a pleasant, but fake-looking smile and Bobbie felt a cold chill down her spine. She respect the media empire he had built, but seeing him in person, he didn’t seem like a very nice man, at all.

“Cotyar. How are things in Chrisjen’s little empire?” Oh no, Bobbie definitely cared for that tone even less. God, what a condescending dick, but she kept her mouth shut.

“They’re just fine. Sales are up.” Cotyar sounded curt. Polite enough, but it was painfully obvious he didn’t like the man who ran this whole building. There was an awkward tension in the elevator and Bobbie desperately wished she wasn’t there right now.

“Are the sales enough to cover for redoing the Viola Davis shoot?” Ouch, that sounded even worse. Was a billionaire worried about the money for a photoshoot? Granted, Bobbie had no idea how much a photoshoot cost and assumed it wasn’t a small amount, but the man owned a dozen magazines. She hadn’t expected him to care about one photoshoot in one magazine.

“I’m sure they are.”

“Let’s hope so.” Mao nodded towards her as he stepped off the elevator and Bobbie managed a smile until the doors slid shut.

“He seems –

“ – like a very unpleasant man. He is. Like most men with power and money.” And that was all Cotyar said about him before the elevator stopped at their floor and they rushed through the halls to get to Chrisjen’s office. Drummer was sitting at her desk and barely looked up from her laptop to give the pair of them a disapproving glance before returning to her work.

Racks of clothes had been rolled into Chrisjen’s office and it looked utterly chaotic, color and prints everywhere, jewelry on her couch, shoes on the floor. It was a mess, but Chrisjen looked very calm in the middle of it. And somehow her dress, that started with bright red at the top and ending in a deep black at the bottom, stood out in the chaos whereas everybody else just disappeared into it. Cotyar effortlessly slipped into the scene while Bobbie hung back at the edge, phone out, ready to take notes of whatever Chrisjen needed.

Chrisjen ran her long fingers over the clothes, lip curling in distaste when she didn’t like something even though she hadn’t pulled off the rack yet. “This is a fucking mess. When I say a shoot to celebrate print, I mean we need to innovate the way we wear it while also paying homage to the past. This doesn’t do any of that.”

“We thought that this leopard blouse could work well with those pants and –.”

“No. Leopard has been done to death, buried, revived and then fucking shot.” The woman who had given Chrisjen the suggestion snapped her mouth shut and then moved back a few steps. The silence was almost oppressing. “Why are there so many animal prints here? Where is the houndstooth, the plaid?”

Cotyar stepped forward and rifled through the clothes on the rack until he pulled out a jumpsuit and held it up. “It’s not exactly moving away from the animal print, but it’s not tiger, leopard or zebra. Japanese cranes, we could combine this jumpsuit with this Saito kimono.”

Cotyar pulled the kimono and Bobbie frowned. They didn’t look at all like they would go together, but Chrisjen hummed and tugged at the kimono. “Didn’t we already use kimonos in – “

“The October issue? Yes we did, but those were more traditional with Japanese prints where this has a modern print and the Japanese print is on the jumpsuit underneath.” Cotyar draped the kimono over the jumpsuit and honestly, it still didn’t look good to Bobbie. But then again, her choice of print were plaid or a band t-shirts. So what did she know? Chrisjen stayed silent for a moment and then nodded. The feeling of relief moved through the room.

“We were doubting between these boots with the jumpsuit. But the choice is hard, they’re both so distinctive.” Bobbie looked at the ankle boots being held up and really, they were just black ankle boots, but one had a solid heel and the other a heel made from some sort of see-through material. But the woman who held them up was dead serious about them being distinctive and looked torn between them. Bobbie just shook her head and rolled her eyes, returning her attention to her phone to take notes when needed.

It took her a moment to realize that the silence was back and when she looked up, she found that everybody was looking at her, including Chrisjen, her dark eyes focused on her with an intensity that didn’t predict anything good. She wanted to look at Cotyar to know what was going on, but she felt a little too scared to look away from Chrisjen’s face. “Do you think what we do here is something to roll your eyes at?”

Uh oh. That wasn’t good. That was very bad. She didn’t think anyone had been paying attention to her. Did Chrisjen have eyes in the back of her head or did she happen to look at Bobbie when she did that?

“No, I’m sorry. It just seemed trivial to me.” Nobody gasped, but it sure felt like someone did. Chrisjen pressed her lips together for a moment.

“Trivial. Maybe. A different shoe isn’t going to save the world. But a decision here can change it. Take you shirt for instance. To you it is just a comfortable shirt, one of many flannels you own, no doubt. But the plaid shirt for women dates back to forties where women like Marylin Monroe started wearing them, borrowing from the boys, until in ’49 they started making them for women. They were there in every decade since, but it was in nineties where it really peaked with grunge fashion. Its recurrence, however, was encouraged by me and dressed by Cotyar. We can tell that the exact shirt you’re wearing is based on what Yves Saint Laurent did in 2013. So, it doesn’t save the world. But it puts the clothes on your back. That doesn’t seem so fucking trivial to me.”

Bobbie swallowed heavily. She didn’t think she had ever been cut down that hard and that calmly at the same time. She would have been impressed if her legs didn’t feel like they were going to give out on her. She couldn’t even think of anything to say. Not that it mattered in the slightest. Chrisjen had already turned her back on her, continuing to select pieces that made no sense to Bobbie, but apparently did to everybody else in the room.

When she looked over her shoulder, she found Drummer standing in the door way, her expression unreadable. And then she shook her head slightly and moved to sit back down at her desk. Shit. Whatever had just happened, Bobbie had failed. And what was worse, she had disappointed Chrisjen and probably Cotyar as well. But somehow it hurt to know she had disappointed Chrisjen. She was impossible, but she was also her boss, her very hot boss who would no doubt ban her from every working in publishing if she ever found out Bobbie thought of her as hot.

Chrisjen didn’t pay her any more attention during the whole run-through which was mostly a relief, but Bobbie would be lying if she said it didn’t make her feel kind of sad as well. But why would Chrisjen spare her second assistant any glances when said assistant didn’t know the first thing about fashion and had basically just insulted everything they did at Runway on a daily basis anyway?

She was very relieved when the run-through was over and she could leave Chrisjen’s office to work on the notes she had been given. Cotyar gently squeezed her shoulder as he walked past her and just whispered ‘homework’ in her ear. Bobbie smiled at him. Yeah, she really was going to at least gain some minimal knowledge about fashion if she didn’t want Chrisjen to verbally murder her every other day.

“Trivial, huh?” Drummer said flatly once everyone was gone and Bobbie had settled at her desk.

“I know, I know. I messed up. She just made it sound so important, it seemed a little ridiculous.”

“You just went from trivial to ridiculous. You’re on very thin ice.” Drummer’s voice dropped and her accent seemed to be thicker. She was pissed off and Bobbie felt almost as bad as when Chrisjen had been schooling her.

“Okay so I don’t get the fashion thing.” They knew that. Chrisjen knew that when she hired her. Why did everybody keep reminding her of that?

“That much is obvious. Just know that this ‘fashion thing’ is what we have made our careers out of and it pays your bills. So try to treat it with a little less disdain. This might not be your world, but it’s ours.”

Oh. Yeah. That was probably why they kept reminding her of it. She didn’t have a rebuttal for that, because Drummer was right and so was Chrisjen and Cotyar. She didn’t know fashion, but for as long as she worked here, she had to show some respect for this world.

* * *

If Bobbie had thought she was tired at the end of her first day, it is nothing compared to the bone-deep fatigue she feels when her first week ended. She didn’t even wear heels and her feet were aching from running to what seemed like every corner of Manhattan and the Closet. Being able to collapse on her bed, knowing she didn’t have to get up at the crack of dawn was quite possibly the best feeling ever.

An assistant’s job was supposed to be easy, the way to get her into the publishing world and she would be able to start building a career. It wasn’t even mentally demanding, and yet here she was, feeling like she had just finished a dropping with a 100 pounds of equipment strapped to her back. She loved Alex, but she was glad he was at his job right now, so she could have the apartment all to herself, enjoy the peace and quiet.

So of course the buzzer rang. She debated just ignoring it, she wasn’t expecting anyone, so it was likely to either be some prankster kids pressing all the buttons on her building or someone who had the wrong address. But then it rang again and she groaned. Why her? She had deserved her rest, hadn’t she? With a great amount of effort she dragged herself to intercom.

“What?” she snapped, really not caring about being polite to the person who had interrupted her well-deserved start of the weekend.

“You don’t get any nicer when you’re at home, do you Red?” Bobbie blinked and stared at the phone in her hand. Was she hallucinating? Had the one week at Runway messed with her head so much she was starting to hear her colleagues’ voices even when she was at home.

“Cotyar?”

“The one and only. I promise, it’s not a work emergency, so let me up.” Bobbie had so many questions, but she buzzed him in, unlocked the door and sank down on her couch, wondering why the hell Cotyar was at her place, unannounced, at like nine pm. The first thing she noticed when he entered was that he had actually changed clothes, gone were the sharp blazer and the turtleneck, replace by something that looked a lot more casual, but still made him look like he stepped out of a magazine. The second thing she noticed was the beer. She hadn’t pegged him as a beer guy.

“Not a bad place you got here, Red, in a sort of rundown, has a lot of potential sort of way.”

“Thanks, I think. How do you even know where I live?”

“I have my ways.” Which probably meant he had friends in HR. The sneaky bastard. But it was nice to have his company, even when she was so tired. Grabbing one of the beers he handed her, she twisted the top of it and tapped it against the bottle he was holding out. Okay she really hadn’t expected him to be a drinking beer straight from the bottle kind of guy. He looked sort of tough with the obvious broken nose, but he worked in fashion. She thought he would have been wine guy or maybe whiskey. Not this. It was nice.

“I take it the beer means you’ve decided to like me,” she said, reminding him of what he had said on Monday. Cotyar tilted his head.

“Mostly. This won’t get us drunk, sadly. Which is probably for the best, Chrisjen could still call either of us even though it’s the weekend.”

“Drummer warned me. And she said that Chrisjen probably wouldn’t my first weekend. I’m going to enjoy my precious free time.” She was going to do absolutely nothing, other than laundry. And maybe leaf through the copies of Runway Cotyar had given her.

“Enjoy that while it lasts. To surviving your first week and not letting Chrisjen get you down, despite that epic dressing down she gave you. That was painful.” Bobbie suppressed a shiver at the memory. Not her finest moment. Chrisjen had been truly scary and she hadn’t even raised her voice. It would have been hot if Bobbie hadn’t felt so very uncomfortable. She had been schooled like never before.

“Why is she like that?”

“Short answer, if she isn’t, the magazine drops in quality and she loses money and you saw the way Mao is about money. Long answer, she gave up the career her father had planned for her, left her family behind to follow her passion. Fashion, Runway, it’s her life. She should have been a political leader, instead she decided to leave her mark on the world like this. So she demands perfection and she doesn’t wait for it.”

“That doesn’t seem like a fun life.”

“She makes it work better than most would. She’s still human underneath it all. She’s good with her granddaughter.” Bobbie had seen her picture in the office, but somehow she couldn’t picture as a mother, let alone a grandmother. But then she had only been privy to Chrisjen’s work side and that side, no matter how beautiful, wasn’t pleasant. She couldn’t imagine her with a young child, playing games, reading to her, getting messy, running around. She wondered if she cursed as much around that little girl.

“She’s a tough boss, unfair at times, I won’t deny that. She will drive a lot of people up the wall and not care about it. But working for her is worth it.” Bobbie wondered how Cotyar had ended up at Runway, working for Chrisjen. He had been working there for years. His name was linked to magazine as much as Chrisjen’s, but decided not to ask right now. Maybe when they knew each other better.

“Is it? Worth it, that is.”

“It is for me. For you, we’ll see. At least she’s not bad on the eyes.” Bobbie choked on her beer. Had she been that obvious checking out her boss? Cotyar grinned victoriously. “I knew it.”

Bobbie knew she was blushing and she hated it. She couldn’t help it that the woman looked good and that she may have thought about what she would look like naked, flushed and sweaty. It wasn’t a bad a mental image. Not at all. She threw her bottlecap at Cotyar. “Shut up and drink.”


	3. Chapter 3

Bobbie’s first month wasn’t quite hell, but fun was something entirely different. Chrisjen’s demands and tasks kept her busy well beyond the required hours, meaning she didn’t see her friends, but slowly she learned to cope. She had even looked at the magazines Cotyar had given her. She still didn’t understand fashion, but she had to admit that some of the photoshoots were pretty. She had been more interested in the articles. In between all the advertisments and overpriced pieces of clothes, there had been some actual solid pieces of journalism.

She had tried to find the people who wrote those in the office, but Cotyar told her that the journalist-side of the magazine almost exclusively used freelance journalists, but he would try to introduce Bobbie to a few when they came to the office. After the night he had dropped by her apartment unannounced, they tried to grab lunch together if their schedules allowed it. Three weeks after her first day he gave her truly expensive bottle of tequila stating that he would get drunk with her now. She was saving it for something special.

What she hadn’t told Cotyar or anyone was that she had religiously read every single Editor’s Letter in the copies she had been given, wondering if she could discover something personal about Chrisjen, something that was different from her professional mask and she thought she had, or maybe she wanted to find it so badly, she saw something that wasn’t there. But some of those letters had been inspiring, moving even.

Bobbie had reread the one in the issue that tackled #MeToo several times. She swore there was emotion in that one, a vulnerability that she somehow hadn’t thought Chrisjen capable of. The issue that covered young heroes across the globe fighting for climate justice, that letter had been hopeful, inspiring. Chrisjen was actually a good writer, she knew how to tell an entire story in a one-page letter. It was amazing.

She had tried to find that side of Chrisjen at work, in between catching her expensive coats, running errands, fetching her tea and lunches that smelled and looked absolutely delicious, but so far she had mostly seen the editor in chief Chrisjen, who insisted in making all the decisions, barked orders and cursed like a sailor and did it while looking like a million bucks. Bobbie was starting to wonder if there was a color the woman couldn’t wear.

It had been a crazy month, but she was starting to settle at her job and, even better, Chrisjen was leaving for Miami that afternoon, so she would actually have the weekend off and she had made plans to get absolutely smashed with Naomi, Amos and Alex. She had gotten her first paycheck and while it wasn’t a lot, it was a lot better than when she had been working in customer service.

Her chipper mood took a bit of a hit when she walked into the office with the coffee and tea and saw the look on Drummer’s face. Bobbie was pretty sure she had never seen her smile, but there was almost a determination on her face, in the straight line of her shoulder. Today she was staring blankly at her laptop, shoulders slumped. She didn’t even move when Bobbie placed the coffee in front of her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. Drummer didn’t react which worried her even more, because normally she would have gotten some snarky remark. Now, nothing. They weren’t friends or anything, but this was troubling. “Drummer.”

“I’m fine.” Sure. And Bobbie was a well-known fashion influencer and best buddies with Chrisjen Avasarala. She nudged the coffee cup a little closer, putting her phone on silent mode, but keeping an eye it for when Chrisjen’s driver texted her that he was pulling up in front of the building.

“I know you have this whole I’m tough and distant thing going on, and I don’t know you well, but something is wrong and you’re not hiding it well.” Finally Drummer looked up at her and for a second, Bobbie expected her to snap at her, but instead she took a deep breath and cradled the coffee cup in her hands.

“A friend who is basically family is sick. It’s not looking good.” Oh. That explained it. Bobbie understood how that felt all too well. It had been years, but the memory of her mother getting her diagnosis, the long months in the hospital, sometimes it all seemed like yesterday.

“I’m sorry.”

Drummer shrugged. “Don’t be.”

“Can I do anything for you? Get you some coffee? Do all the shitty tasks today?” she offered. She knew she couldn’t do anything meaningful, but maybe she could lighten some of the stress of the workday, if Chrisjen and her crazy demands allowed it.

“You’re the second assistant, you already have the shitty jobs.” It seemed like an attempt at humor and Bobbie smiled. She didn’t dare reach out and give Drummer’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze just yet, but she was glad that Drummer seemed a little less down.

“True. Well, let me know if you need anything.” Her screen lit up with a “Pulling up now” text and Bobbie left Drummer to make sure Chrisjen tea was waiting for her in the exact way that she wanted it, checking to make sure her office looked perfect. She knew this routine now. It gave her exactly enough time to make her way to the elevator to intercept Chrisjen and take down her long list of morning tasks and demands. She was about to leave when Drummer stopped her.

“Bobbie.” Bobbie turned around, her hand on the door. It wasn’t quite a smile that she saw, but the corner of Drummer’s mouth was definitely curled up a little. “You’re better than I thought you would be.”

* * *

Bobbie made her way through the crowded bar, the volume of the music having already gone up past the point of being able to hold a conversation without having to yell. She grinned when she saw her friends attempting to have some intense debate despite the music. “What? We don’t get up to greet each other anymore?”

The three of them jumped up in unison and instead of hugging her one by one, they went for a chaotic group hug. Bobbie felt the little bit of stress that remained from her week slip away and she smiled, wrapping her arms tightly around Naomi and Amos, knowing they were squeezing Alex just as hard. He had one if his rare nights off. And though she bumped into him at their apartment, their schedules were almost the exact opposite now, so she was glad to see him.

“So happy to you guys!” Almost as soon as she said it, Amos held up a tray with two tequila shots ready to go. She grimaced at him. Really? She had barely arrived.

“You need to catch up.” Fuck. He wasn’t backing down. With a sigh, she slammed the shots back, hating the taste of tequila and grateful for the slice of lime that followed them. She could practically already feel the hangover she would have tomorrow. But fuck it, she could let loose for one night and the pay the price for it. It had been too long anyway.

“Nice to see you again, it’s been a while,” Naomi said, well, more shouted. Bobbie shrugged. She knew she had neglected her friends and she did feel guilty about it, but it wasn’t like she had had a lot of chances to see them. She didn’t control her schedule. Chrisjen did. And Chrisjen apparently lived and breathed Runway at all hours of the day, which meant that Bobbie couldn’t make any sure plans.

“I know, I know. Sorry. Just work, it’s been difficult to find a rhythm.” She did have a rhythm and it was a rhythm of working all day, sleeping and then working some more.

“Gotta be if the dragon lady keeps you occupied at odd hours.” Naomi didn’t even try to hide the venom in her voice and Bobbie raised her eyebrows. She knew she had been a little absent in their group chat, but this seemed a little a much.

“Naomi, be nice,” Alex said, in an attempt to keep the peace. This was supposed to be a nice night out. Naomi looked at him and whatever tension that had appeared out of nowhere, disappeared again as she grabbed Bobbie’s hand.

“Right, sorry. I just miss you.”

“It’s okay, I have been away a bit. But I’m here now and Chrisjen is in Miami this weekend, so I should be all yours.”

“Good, then let’s get you drunk and dance.” Bobbie was helpless as Naomi dragged her to the bar, ordered another round of shots and then guided her towards the dance floor. Bobbie didn’t care what kind of music was playing, didn’t care that she couldn’t dance like Naomi. She just wanted to enjoy this moment.

She could feel the beat pounding in her chest and could feel herself getting less sober with every beer or shot that she drank. They laughed at Alex attempts at dancing. The man had a nice singing voice and wasn’t bad with a guitar, but he couldn’t dance to save his life. Amos always shocked them with his sense of rhythm. Naomi was graceful and drew the attention of both men and women and Bobbie couldn’t blame any of them.

For a moment Bobbie entertained flirting with one of the bartenders, a gorgeous woman with black hair and intense eyes and a seductive smile that Bobbie swore didn’t look anything like her boss. But this was her night with her friends so she just tipped her properly and got back to dancing when her ass cheek started to vibrate. Blindly she reached for her phone and in her less than sober state it took her a moment to realize it was her work phone. It took her even longer to realize that Chrisjen was facetiming her.

“Shit!” Naomi must have seen the fear on her face and stopped dancing.

“What?”

“It’s Chrisjen.” And she was fucking facetiming. This was bad. So fucking bad. Naomi just looked really pissed off and for once, Bobbie agreed with her. Chrisjen was in Miami. She had a weekend completely free of work. This wasn’t supposed to be happening

“You have got to be bloody kidding me. It’s Friday night, well Saturday now. Why would she need you?”

“I don’t fucking know. Oh and I’m drunk. This is not going to go well.” She pushed her way to the bathroom, knowing it was large enough to somewhat comfortably hold a facetime conversation. She just prayed she didn’t look or sound drunk, though she was pretty sure she was failing on that first one. Taking a steadying breath, she accepted the call. “Chrisjen, hi.”

“I need to get back to New York, right fucking now.” Bobbie blinked. What now? And was she completely shitfaced or did Chrisjen look less than perfect? Her hair looked like she had run her hands through it a lot, she was wearing a comfortable looking sweater instead of something super tailored and her eyes weren’t as intense. Something was bothering her. The fact that Chrisjen was waiting very impatiently for an answer hit her only a moment later.

“It’s the middle of the night, I’ll do what I can, but I can’t promise anything.”

“I don’t fucking care. The utter goddamn idiots at the airport are claiming there’s a hurricane and they can’t fly. Bullshit.” Bobbie’s mouth dropped open. She was at the airport? Hurricane? Had she missed that weather report? If Chrisjen in person couldn’t get them to fly, with all her terrifying energy, then what the hell was Bobbie supposed to do from thousands of miles away? And she couldn’t even think clearly with the tequila swimming around in her brain.

“Chrisjen…I’ll see what I can do.” Chrisjen hung up without saying goodbye, which wasn’t a surprise, but it felt even colder now. Shit. Fuck. She was wasted and she had to go make the impossible happen. This was not what she had imagined when she had started this night with two tequila shots. Probably looking like someone had kicked her puppy, Bobbie made her way back to the dancefloor. 

“What does she want?” Naomi asked, sounding worried. Amos and Alex were looking at them. Well Amos was. Alex was leaning a little heavily on Amos. He never could handle his liquor.

“She’s stuck in Miami and they won’t let her fly.”

“A hurricane tends to make that difficult.”

“I know.”

“Why does she even want to come back right now?”

“How the hell should I know? It’s not as if she’s the kind of person you ask questions.” She had tried that in her first week, it did not go well. It was like an unspoken rule. You did not ask Chrisjen questions and even if you did, you probably weren’t going to get any answers. Bobbie bit her bottom lip and looked at her phone. “I gotta go do this.”

She didn’t wait for Naomi’s reply and pushed her way through the crowd and exited the bar and started calling airlines that flew out of Miami or to it. She called people that owed Chrisjen favors and had access to private planes, but she knew it was a lost cause before she even started. Planes wouldn’t fly with a hurricane. If the airport was closed, it was closed and there wouldn’t be one open anywhere near her.

Short of calling the military, which wasn’t an option and even they didn’t fly if it was really bad, there was nothing she could do. And she did have a debate with herself if she could call in a favor at the airforce. But quickly decided against it. She didn’t know how bad the weather down there was, but she assumed it wasn’t good.

By the time she had gone through all of her options, her buzz had worn off and she was tired, cold and hungry. And she still needed to call Chrisjen. Better get that out of the way quickly. Chrisjen picked up on the second ring.

“Chrisjen, I’m so sorry. I’ve tried everything, from commercial to everybody you know with a private jet. It’s not possible to fly you home tonight.”

“Fucking useless. I’ll figure it out myself.” Chrisjen hung up again and Bobbie felt like she had been punched in the chest. How did that woman manage to make her feel so terrible with just a few words? She leaned back against a wall and sighed. Well, that could be the end of her very short career of Runway. She didn’t think Chrisjen tolerated mistakes like that, even though it was impossible to beat a hurricane.

“I take it Chrisjen is still in Miami?” Naomi was standing next to her, holding out Bobbie’s coat. She hadn’t even realized she wasn’t wearing it. She didn’t seem angry anymore that Chrisjen had interrupted their night out, so that was good. Amos stood behind her, supporting a very drunk Alex.

“Yep. I might be out of a job.”

“Don’t think about that now. Let’s get something to eat. We’ll crash at your place. Watch a terrible horror movie.”

“You just want Alex’ famous hangover breakfast.” If Alex were even capable of being alive tomorrow. But his hangover breakfast was legendary. Bobbie was already looking forward to it.

“Ah you caught me,” Naomi said with a smile. Even with her job taking up a lot of her time, Bobbie friends were here for her and, she blamed the alcohol for making her all mushy, she was glad she had them, no matter what happened.

Amos surprised her by wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. “It’ll be alright.”

* * *

When Monday rolled around, Bobbie felt nervous. She hadn’t heard anything from Chrisjen. The hurricane hadn’t been that bad and Bobbie assumed Chrisjen had been able to fly back the next morning, but she didn’t know and she had kind of been afraid to ask Drummer or check in with Cotyar. She had been practicing a healthy “ignore the problem until she had to deal with it” policy. And now, having to deal with it had come around.

Chrisjen seemed normal, looking as beautiful as ever, draped in jewelry and a dark purple dress, barking orders, like she hadn’t called Bobbie in the middle of the night, demanding the impossible. Bobbie almost thought Chrisjen wasn’t going to mention it, that Chrisjen had come to realize that what she had wanted Bobbie was unreasonable. She was about to leave her office to get started on her list of tasks when Chrisjen spoke again.

“Stay.” And there it was. Bobbie felt almost every muscle in her body tense up. She had been yelled at by her drill sergeant so many times, but this, this terrified her. And Chrisjen was so good at making it worse, taking her time to pour her tea and settle behind her desk, not caring that she had to look up to look Bobbie in the eye. “Do you know why I needed to fly back home to New York last Friday?”

“No?”

“My granddaughter fell ill. Have you ever heard an eight-year-old girl crying on the phone, begging for you to be there? She was in pain and I wasn’t there.” And for the first time, Chrisjen seemed emotional. She wasn’t crying, but there were tears in her eyes. It was like Chrisjen was willing them to not fall. Not being able to be there for the girl she was raising had hurt her and despite knowing Bobbie couldn’t have done anything to change it, she felt responsible.

“I’m sorry.” It had to be hard to hear granddaughter distraught, a girl who had lost both of her parents at such a young age. She wished she could have gotten Chrisjen back to New York. Maybe she should have called some friends at the airforce.

“Are you? You told me you could do this goddamn job. You told me you had discipline. But instead you were drunk and you failed. Maybe I should have chosen a girl with more fashion sense since you don’t seem better at your job than any of them.” She spoke so calmly, but Bobbie could hear the underlying anger there. It hurt to have Chrisjen talking to her like that. And she knew Chrisjen was being unreasonable. Nobody could have gotten her home and it was the weekend she was allowed to be drunk.

And yet Chrisjen managed to make her feel like it was all her fault. It worked. She felt like a failure.

“Chrisjen –”

“I’m very disappointed in you. Fuck off.” Bobbie felt like crying, but she forced them back and nodded before exiting the office. She wasn’t fired. That was the upside of it. The downside of it, was everything else. She didn’t know that a boss could ever make her feel like crap so much. Chrisjen felt like she had let down her granddaughter and she was taking that out on Bobbie. It wasn’t fair, but she could understand it. That didn’t make it hurt less.

Drummer looked at her with a questioning gaze and Bobbie just shook her head and started to work on setting, moving and cancelling appointments, trying very hard to ignore what Chrisjen looked like with tears in her eyes, but she couldn’t and after an hour, the lump in her throat had gotten so bad, it hurt to breathe. She told Drummer that she needed a moment and left to find the one person in this building she could vent to.

* * *

“I’m fucked,” she said as she entered Cotyar’s office, closing the door behind her. Cotyar looked up from his work and frowned.

“Jeez, the language. I get that enough from Chrisjen and Drummer.” Cotyar went back to his work, clearly not impressed with her little outburst. Bobbie made a face and sat down at in the unoccupied chair, running a hand through her hair. When he realized that Bobbie wasn’t going to leave, Cotyar dropped his pen and leaned back in his chair. “You’re not fired, because you wouldn’t be here, so, what?”

“No, not fired. Sure feels like it. I think she legit hates me.”

Cotyar shook his head and scratched his chin. He almost looked sad, disappointed in her as well, but Bobbie realized he was just trying to figured out to be comforting without giving her any pity. “Trust me, she doesn’t have the patience for hate. Someone offends her, or god forbid, her family, she’ll destroy them before she gives herself a chance to reach hate. You’re good.”

“I’m not. I do the work and I do it well, mostly. I screw up once and she chews me out worse than a drill sergeant.”

“You have screwed up more than once. This was just colossal. Other than Runway, her granddaughter is the most important thing in her life.”

“No buts. Yes, you do the work adequately, but you do it because you want to make it through the year and get your career launched. Everybody else who works here does it for the magazine or for her.” Bobbie looked down at her hands. He wasn’t wrong. Her biggest motivation was to do this job was knowing that she could get the career she wanted at the end of her year. It wasn’t the magazine or even Chrisjen, no matter how much she thought the woman was ridiculously hot.

“Which one are you?” she asked. She never had found out why he was working at Runway or believed so completely in what Chrisjen did. She had heard the way those two could snark at each other, Chrisjen allowed more talk back from Cotyar than she did from anybody else.

“Both. I’d always been the little kid who read Runway, secretly, because my parents were strict Muslims. They weren’t unloving, they just had a view of the world and I didn’t fit into it. I ran away, tried to make a career for myself. Then 9/11 happened. Try being ‘terrorist’ brown in the USA. Chrisjen had seen my work and gave me a chance.” Bobbie hadn’t expected that. She knew secondhand what post 9/11 America did to brown people from what Alex had told her. But weirdly, Cotyar didn’t fit with that in her head. He was just so put together.

Was it still happening to him? Had Chrisjen ever been forced to deal with it herself? So many questions sprang to her mind, but Cotyar’s tone was final. It was clear that he didn’t like talking about it.

“A chance. I wish Chrisjen would give me one.”

“Stop your pity party. She has given you a chance, more than one I’d say. Hiring you was giving you a chance. But I said it, she has no patience. And you still don’t care about any of the work we do here.” He had her there. She had gone through some of the issues of Runway and the only thing, other than the Editor’s Letter, that interested her was the articles, not the fashion. Despite watching people work so hard to put it together, she didn’t see why it was so important.

“I just don’t understand it.”

“And you make no effort to. No one is demanding that you become a walking fashion encyclopedia and style icon. But just make the effort.” She thought she had been making an effort, but he was right, other than doing her job, she hadn’t tried very hard. She looked down and saw her boyfriend jeans, her Converse that had seen better days. Her blouse was alright, but nothing compared to the standard of Runway. She made her decision in a heartbeat.

“Then help me.” Cotyar frowned and then his eyes widened with the realization of what she wanted.

“Oh no. No. I like you. You’re a pain in the ass, but I like you. If I have to get into a discussion that you’ve been wearing the wrong bra size no doubt since you started wearing one, I think you might try to throw me through a wall.” Wait, what? What was wrong with her bra?

“I promise I won’t throw you through a wall. Just help me fix my clothes.” It wouldn’t undo what had happened, but it would show Chrisjen that she was serious about this job, that she wanted to be here, that she deserved to be here. It would show everyone. It was just clothes to her, but it wasn’t to everybody she worked with. And if they cared so much, she could learn to care more than she did now. And look the part as well. But she needed Cotyar.

She could tell the exact moment Cotyar decided he would help her. He seemed to deflate and looked pained, as if he were already regretting it. She grinned as he pointed at her. “If I say you will try something on, you will, and that includes heels. No fighting me on that.”

“Fine,” she agreed, a little begrudgingly. High heels made her so impossibly tall. She didn’t like drawing that much attention to herself, any more than being a six feet tall woman with an obvious Kiwi heritage already did.

“Tonight, after Chrisjen leaves, meet me in the Closet. Let’s see if I can invent a style that kills the stereotype that lesbians have no sense of fashion.” She stuck out her tongue at him, but she was very grateful to him. She wanted to hug him, but didn’t. She had a feeling that he was going to put her through some unpleasant things tonight, but hopefully it would be worth it. For the first time in her life, she was actually excited about getting new clothes, fashion-appropriate clothes at that.

Chrisjen’s mood got only marginally better during the day. She had taken an extra-long lunchbreak to go to her granddaughter and even left earlier which had surprised both Bobbie and Drummer. She knew Chrisjen ex-husband was abroad, as usual, but this was Chrisjen, she never left work early. Drummer had told her to enjoy her evening as she settled in for the possibly long wait for the Book which she would then have to bring to Chrisjen’s house. Bobbie didn’t envy her that job.

She found that she was actually nervous as she made her way to the Closet. She said she would try on whatever Cotyar told her to and maybe she was beginning to regret that a little. For all she knew he would treat her like his personal barbie doll and put her in something poofy and pink. She shuddered at the thought as she made her way down a floor.

They shared this space with some science magazine, but they only had about a third of the space. The rest, behind a door, was the Closet. Just rows and rows of clothes, shoes, accessories and god knows what else. Bobbie had stood there gaping like a fish the first time she had gone there. It didn’t look any less intimidating now, but it was a lot emptier than usual. She still remembered that day she had been forced to pick up polaroids down here and had to walk through about a dozen models in lingerie. That had been fun, albeit slightly awkward.

“Cotyar?”

“In the back.” She found him the second to last row, rifling through pants, leather pants at that. Okay, she could deal with leather pants. And then she caught the rack behind him, the rack that they used to put clothes on for the run-through and she knew that this time, all of it was for her. She couldn’t really tell what any it was, but there wasn’t any pink or any pastels, so that was good. It seemed like he was really helping her instead of torturing her first and then helping her.

“Do you know what Coco Chanel said about fashion?” Cotyar asked he added a pair of pants to the rack and then moved to a different aisle, dragging the rack behind him and expecting Bobbie to follow him.

“I assume that question is rhetorical?”

“It is. She said ‘fashion passes, style is eternal’, which I don’t necessarily agree with, but it’s what I went with for you. I could try and teach you fashion, but it changes from month to month. And really, that’s like bleaching your hair. It looks fun at first, but if you fail to keep it up, it becomes a disaster. So, it’s easier to give you a style and teach you the ins and outs about that.” Bobbie had never bleached her hair, she had always stuck with her natural color, but the analogy still worked. So he wasn’t turning her into a fashionista. That was probably for the best.

“Aha. And the style you’re going for is – ”

“The style you’re going for is stylish lesbian with an edge. I won’t give you florals or pink, but I will give you biker jackets, killer heels and plaid done right. And yes, there will be dresses.” Bobbie kept her face neutral. She could deal with dresses, as long as there weren’t any ruffles. She was just glad he was going for a style that suited her and wasn’t the complete opposite of who she was. And besides, maybe it was time she updated her wardrobe a little.

“And here I thought you were going to turn me into a Kiwi Miss Piggy.”

“The thought did cross my mind. You’re also not going to permanently wear your hair in that severe bun anymore. Someone will come by tonight to refresh your haircut and you’re going to wear it down more. And before you ask, no, you will not have a say in this. This is not Queer Eye, you do what I tell you to do.”

“So bossy.”

“You have no idea. But first, lingerie.” Bobbie’s mouth dropped open. He was kidding, wasn’t he? He had to be kidding.

* * *

He had not been kidding. Cotyar had told in no uncertain terms that she needed to go up a cup size and get a bigger band as well. She had wanted to argue with him, but when she had changed into the bra he had handed, which was all lacy, it actually fit better than her old one had. A man had just guessed her bra size perfectly. It hurt a little. But he had dumped a whole bunch of last season’s expensive lingerie in a bag for her and added some comfortable stuff like Calvin Klein as well.

He had been explaining to her how to combine pieces, hard and soft, which designers suited her and what would work for her surprisingly well-toned arms and shoulders (his words), when a hairdresser had arrived. Cotyar had pushed her into a chair and explained to the short, but terrifying looking Asian woman what he wanted, like she didn’t even exist, but Bobbie had reached a ‘this might as well happen’ phase, so she just let it happen.

“Hey Cotyar?”

“What?” He was busying himself with putting outfits together and wrapping them up so Bobbie had a few complete outfits ready for the following week. He was also adding a detailed list of how to take care of the clothes and which ones would have to be returned when, but where she could find a less ridiculously expensive version of the article. He had even been explaining how to combine the pieces, switch them up. He was really going all out for this.

“How long have you been thinking about doing this? Because this does not look like you made this up this morning.” He was putting together an entire wardrobe for her. He might as well be one of the Fab Five, considering the effort he put into this.

“Oh, from the moment Chrisjen hired you. I figured you would either be gone in a month or you would stick it out and eventually realize that you could do so much better. And you’re a tall, good-looking woman with a good figure. What self-respecting creative director at the fashion magazine wouldn’t want to dress you.”

“Aw thanks. I think.” If any other man had talked about her like she would have been slightly grossed out. But Cotyar didn’t make it sound creepy. It was his job, partly, to dress women. This was professional, aside from the fact that he was doing this as a friend. Maybe she should have brought beer, made this whole experience even better, but she was pretty sure Chrisjen would actually explode if she discovered alcohol had been in the Closet. “Have you ever dressed Chrisjen?”

“Is this your way of asking if I have ever seen her naked, Red? Because I have indeed seen her in various stages of undress and no, I will not tell you what she looks like so your fantasies can get more detailed.”

“I don’t fantasize about her.” Okay she did. She had thought about what Chrisjen would be like in bed. That voice, it had to be incredible to hear her moan and her skin just looked so soft. She already knew Chrisjen smelled good. And god, she just wanted to know what it would be like to kiss her, to taste her, to fuck her until she tapped out. But that was all just because Chrisjen was beautiful and beyond infuriating and older, so exactly her type. It didn’t mean anything. People were allowed to fantasize.

“Sure you don’t. But these might make her fantasize about you.” Cotyar held up something in leather. Bobbie couldn’t turn her head to look at it properly, with the woman still cutting her hair so she had to make do with the mirror, but she was pretty sure they were pants with shoes attached. Or thigh-high boots with high heels. It was by far the most daring item he had pulled.

“What are those?”

“We call them boots,” Cotyar retorted dryly.

“What do you even wear with those?”

Cotyar moved into her field of vision holding the boots in one hand and a single piece of clothing in the other. “This.”

“That’s a blazer.” Where was the rest of it? It was a good blazer, kind of oversized and the gold buttons were a little in her face, but she could see herself wearing it, but with those boots? That was a lot.

“No this is a dress that looks like a blazer. You’re going to wear them, tomorrow.”

“What? Why?” Did he want the whole office to look at her any more than they already would when she suddenly showed up with a sense of style? Cotyar just smirked.

“Because I need Chrisjen to see you in those boots.” Bobbie gave him a questioning look. Chrisjen saw women in nice clothes all the time. What was so special about the boots and her wearing them? Because she highly doubted it would lead to Chrisjen suddenly seeing her as competent or to start fantasizing about her, although that thought made her feel all warm. “I still vividly remember her being pissed off that none of the models could pull them off and you can. I want to see the look on her face.”

Bobbie didn’t want to admit it, but after the day she had of dealing with a pissed off Chrisjen who was disappointed in her, she wanted to see the look on Chrisjen’s face as well.

* * *

Getting dressed the following morning was… interesting. She had never worn boots that stopped a few inches away from her underwear, her really nice, fancy underwear. Her preferred underwear was comfy and mostly made of cotton, but she’d had girlfriends who had said lingerie made them feel powerful and now she finally understood why. It was exciting knowing she was wearing it underneath her clothes.

She shrugged into her dress which still looked a lot like a blazer to her, but whatever. It fit her perfectly and with the boots and the soft waves the hairdresser had put in her hair, it looked good. She looked good in a way that suited her, but made her look completely different and after she added a little makeup, also picked out by Cotyar, she looked like she worked at Runway. And to her surprise, she liked it. She was wearing a dress and heels, but she liked it.

The first few steps were a little wobbly, but pacing the length of her bedroom a few times helped. She could do this. Feeling confident, she made her way to the kitchen and quickly ate some breakfast when the door to Alex’ bedroom opened. “Hey Bobbie, I don’t mind you having a girl over, but could you please tell her to not wear her heels this early in the morning.”

He still looked half asleep, but his eyes widened comically when he saw her standing there. Bobbie tried to put a cocky expression on her face, as she put a hand on her hip. She had lived with Alex for a few years, but he never seen her in anything fancier than a suit that hadn’t quite fitted her. “What on god’s green earth – ”

“You like?” she asked, unable to stop grin on her face. He just looked so shocked, like he would never be able to close his mouth and it was so funny. 

“Is that you? Holy crap.” He blinked and walked closer, nudging Bobbie so she would spin around and with a roll of her eyes, she did a little spin. The dress was short, the boots were high and she liked it and so did Alex. “Yeah, I like. I like a lot. Who knew that was hiding under all that flannel and baggy jeans?”

“I figured it was time I adapted to my surroundings.”

“Well, you look great! Not that there was anything wrong with the way you dressed before.”

“Yeah yeah.” She shoved the last of her breakfast in her mouth and grabbed her bag. “Right, go back to sleep, I’ll try to remember putting on my heels at the door next time.”

“Thanks. Knock ‘em dead.” She did a little wave and left for work. Her routine was different today. She still took the subway and stopped by Starbucks, but Chrisjen started the day off with a meeting with the Mao-Kwikowsi board and wouldn’t stop by her office first. Because of that, Drummer would be in later, visiting her friend in the hospital. So other than calls and possible demands Chrisjen would send her by text, it would be a quiet start of the day.

It suited her just fine. She had gotten home late after Cotyar’s makeover and she didn’t think she would have been ready for both Drummer’s and Chrisjen’s reaction at the same time. She’d probably twist her ankle in front of one of them and horribly embarrass herself. The few colleagues she did run into on her way to her desk were either surprised or appreciative of her new look. So she felt good. Good enough that she got lost in her work and didn’t realize hours had passed until she got a text from Cotyar that Chrisjen would arrive in about five minutes, giving her enough time to make a cup of tea.

She had nearly finished when she heard Chrisjen voice and she did not sound happy. Bobbie felt her heart beat faster. Would the editor of the most well-known and well-read fashion approve of her makeover? She wondered how she had turned into the person who got nervous about what someone else thought of her clothes, but pushed that thought to the side and instead listening to the conversation between Chrisjen and Cotyar. “I am not fucking kidding, Cotyar, if I have to spend another three consecutive hours with the board of Mao-Kwikowski defending my spending, I am going to start planning a mass assassination. As if I don’t bring in the most revenue by far.”

“Please don’t tell me the details. I prefer to have plausible deniability.” Bobbie suppressed a smile.

“Tell me you have some good news, any good news.” Bobbie heard Chrisjen’s coat hitting her desk as she poured the tea into one of the delicate porcelain tea cups. Picking up the tray, she straightened her back and took a deep breath.

“I got confirmation on your Kurdish freedom fighter piece. They found five women willing to do the interview and a photoshoot.” Please don’t trip. Please don’t trip. It was her mantra as she walked around her desk and into Chrisjen’s office. It would be so her to fall and break Chrisjen expensive tea-set, in front of her.

“Good. Start setting that up immediately. What’s the status on the leather shoot, because the last time I checked it- -.” Chrisjen trailed off in the middle of her sentence as Bobbie set the stray with the steaming hot tea in front of her. Bobbie squared her shoulders and didn’t back down as Chrisjen narrowed her eyes and slowly allowed her gaze to travel over her outfit, her expression neutral until she reached the boots. Something akin to surprise and shock appeared on her face as she briefly looked at Cotyar who was the picture of innocence. Jerk.

It seemed like it lasted forever and Bobbie felt herself getting warmer. Chrisjen had never scrutinized her like this. Finally Chrisjen looked up at her face again, the heels Bobbie was wearing making their height difference even more obvious. All of the anger and disappointment that had been there yesterday were gone. Chrisjen smiled, actually smiled. She looked so beautiful, Bobbie couldn’t help but smile back.

“The last time I checked, it wasn’t going anywhere near according to the fucking plan,” Chrisjen continued, her eyes on Bobbie for one last moment, before returning her focus on Cotyar. Bobbie took it as her cue to leave and practically floated back towards her desk, even in the insanely high heels. Yesterday had been one of her worst day since she started here, but today was starting to look like her best. Chrisjen had smiled at her, a genuine smile. She had thought her boss was beautiful before. Seeing that, it ascended her to a whole different level.

Bobbie had never been one in need for praise or validation, but knowing that Chrisjen approved of this change, it felt so ridiculously good. The woman was notoriously hard to please and yet Bobbie, with Cotyar’s help, seemed to have achieved it. It absolutely did nothing to help with the fact that Bobbie had thought about her boss naked several times, but it was nice that for once, Chrisjen had looked at her like she actually liked her.

“My, my, you clean up nicely. Cotyar really is a miracle worker.” Drummer’s voice had the same dry tone, but she had a smile playing on her lips as she took in Bobbie’s outfit. Bobbie hadn’t even noticed her coming in and setting at her own desk. Drummer’s mile turned into a smirk when she saw the boots. “And he has balls to put you in those boots in front of her.”

“Thanks. And really what is it with Chrisjen and these boots?” They were just boots, thigh-high leather boots that had a ‘fuck me’ vibe, but still, just boots.

“She actually marched down to the set when she saw how they were being butchered by the models. Her words. She eventually nixed them entirely and used them for a shoot that just showed off shoes without models wearing them. She likes them and was disappointed nobody they hired could do them justice. Cotyar must have wanted to make a point.” Cotyar’s words about Chrisjen possibly fantasizing about her resurfaced and Bobbie swallowed.

“He usually does,” she muttered, hoping that she wasn’t blushing. The last thing she needed was Drummer knowing she had a crush on their boss. She didn’t think she was the teasing type, but her judgmental looks were a lot to handle.

“What made you decide to change your style from lesbian drap to lesbian chic?” The fact that Chrisjen had had tears in her eyes and that the image had haunted her and honestly it had been a spur of the moment thing, because she had to do something? Yeah, she couldn’t go with that. Drummer would have her declared insane.

“Chrisjen being disappointed in me, Cotyar telling me that I wasn’t putting in the effort to understand this world and basically realizing that I had maybe been stubborn about not wanting to learn about clothes.” It was sort of true, mostly. Drummer seemed to accept it as she took in Bobbie’s outfit again. Bobbie felt the urge to pose. So far, even though it was less comfortable than her normal clothes and had a lot smaller pockets, she was liking it and the effect it had on people. Or one person in particular.

“It’s a good look on you. I would actually allow myself to be seen in public with you now.”

“Aw, are you asking me on a date?” she teased. She honestly didn’t even know if Drummer was queer. Her own gaydar was a disaster when it came to women and Drummer didn’t mention her personal life a lot, but Bobbie could picture her with a woman, a stubborn one who could give as good as she got. Most men would be intimidated by her anyway.

“You wish. I don’t date colleagues or people in this fashion world and you’re not my type. But we should go get a drink sometime. With Cotyar.” It sounded a lot like an order, but Bobbie smiled anyway. She hadn’t pictured her and Drummer ever becoming friends, because the first assistant was distant and a little cold, and let’s be real, a little (or a lot) intimidating. But Drummer suggesting they’d go out for a drink, that was unexpected and very welcome.

“I would love that.” And she meant it. Drummer nodded and returned to her work, effectively ending the conversation. Bobbie did the same when a moment later Cotyar exited Chrisjen’s office, looking extremely smug. He knocked on her desk and leaned in as if he were about share some hot gossip. Bobbie raised her eyebrows, but got closer anyway. 

“I think you got to her, Red.” Bobbie really wanted to flip him off, but only just managed to not do it, a little afraid that Chrisjen would somehow see it. Asshole. She was grateful to him for basically putting together a whole style for her, but if that meant she had to deal with more digs about thinking Chrisjen was hot, she might have to hit him at some point, just to get the frustration out. He left with a little wave and Bobbie groaned.

He had barely left when that all too familiar voice floated out of the office and Bobbie felt her heart skip a beat. “Bobbie.”

Her legs were a little shaky when she stood and this time it wasn’t the boots. Was Chrisjen going to bring up yesterday? Was she going to question about her sudden change of style? Or was she just going to give her something new to do, as usual? She straightened her dress and walked into Chrisjen’s office to find her boss leaning against her desk, her legs crossed at the ankles. Oh man. With that leather skirt and the dark blouse that were clearly meant to show the board that she was in charge, yeah, she was stunning.

No amount military training or having experience dating beautiful women was adequate enough to deal with the way Chrisjen looked or the intense gaze she had fixed on Bobbie.

“Come closer.” She wanted what now? Was this a dream? Were she and Cotyar pulling a prank on her? She took a few steps closer and when Chrisjen raised a single eyebrow, another one. She didn’t think she had ever been this close to Chrisjen. She could see the mascara on her lashes and the flecks of amber in her eyes, the light freckles on her chest partially obscured by the complicated necklace she was wearing. God, she could smell the scent of her no doubt luxurious shampoo. Something had to be keeping her hair so perfectly shiny.

“Were any alterations made on the boots?” Bobbie looked down at her boots as if the answer was written on them somehow. It wasn’t, sadly, but Chrisjen was expecting an answer nonetheless.

“I – uh – I don’t know. I don’t think so.” Cotyar had just pulled them from the Closet. Surely he hadn’t any time to have altered those boots between when she had asked him to help her and the actual makeover. Chrisjen narrowed her eyes and reached out. For one horrifying moment, Bobbie thought she was going to touch her. Chrisjen had never touched her before and Bobbie was afraid she might spontaneously combust if she did or melt into floor. Either way it would be very embarrassing and put an end to her career at Runway. But Chrisjen’s hand stopped just short of her thigh, hovering over the boots.

“How do they feel?” Had Chrisjen just asked her opinion on something? Okay. Today was a very strange day. A good day, but very strange. She had never thought she would ever be this close to Chrisjen. She had imagined it for sure, but she never thought it would actually happen and her brain was going into overdrive, trying to commit all the details to memory.

“They’re not as comfortable as my Doc Martens, but they feel good.” As good as leather boots with high heel could feel anyway. Chrisjen pulled her hand back, gold nails glinting, and it almost looked a little awkward, but that might have been Bobbie’s imagination.

“Okay. You can fuck off now.” Bobbie spun on her heel and resisted the urge to run out of the office, not daring to look over her shoulder to see if Chrisjen was still watching her. Because she wouldn’t be. Why would she? She felt hot and confused. What the hell had just happened?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right so, things have been happening in the fandom, or rather with one actor. I'm just a fanfic writer and I have nothing to do with the show, but I sort of feel the need to say that what is currently happening has soured me on the character of Alex a bit. Give me a little time and I will be able to separate the actor and the character. But it's all very new and fresh. But the fandom being amazing and supportive of the victims, that does me good. 
> 
> That being said, this fic has been done for like nearly two months. I'm not going to change based on the actor's actions. The character is not to blame for the actor's actions. If you have trouble reading anything with Alex rn, I understand. He's not a main character in my fic, but he is there. 
> 
> As for the women who spoke up, I doubt they're reading this, but I believe you and I think you're all amazingly strong for speaking up.

“Holy shit. Be careful, you’re gonna make me think you’re hot,” Amos said before Bobbie had even closed the door to Alex’ bar behind her. She rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway. She was rather fond of this outfit, the high-waisted leather pants and the loose blouse with an unbuttoned vest over it. She felt a bit like a pirate, but one with a sense of style. Drummer had approved and Chrisjen, well she hadn’t said anything or smiled, but Bobbie swore that there had been something in her eyes that approved. It seemed like she had been doing that with every outfit Bobbie had worn since her little transformation.

“First of all, everybody at work has dubbed this lesbian chic, so it’s not for you to find hot. Second of all, you didn’t think I was hot before?” she teased. Amos had a tendency to be horribly inappropriate at times, but he wasn’t doing it to be inappropriate. He just didn’t care to filter himself which was shocking at times, but Bobbie liked it most of the times. It was honest.

“I did. But you can beat me up, so I kept it to myself.” She laughed and hugged him before moving on to Naomi and pulling her close.

“I knew it was only a matter of time before you’d sell out to the fashion overlords and I had been preparing myself to hate it, because I really don’t care for your boss. But damn. You look good.” Bobbie smiled. Naomi had made no secret of not liking Runway or the fashion industry and therefor Chrisjen as well, but she was glad she was putting aside her morals, or keeping a lid on them, to support her. She needed her friends, no matter what type of clothes she was wearing.

“I told you.” Alex said as he appeared with set of craft beers that were new to the gastrobar and a plate filled with snacks, going with a middle-eastern theme this time. No matter what he served them, it was always delicious, but the smell of freshly made falafel made Bobbie’s stomach grumble.

“Well, excuse me for not trusting your judgement when it comes to fashion. You’ve been wearing a beanie for about a decade now.”

“Hey that beanie is an important part of my image.” He snagged the piece of falafel Naomi had just grabbed from her fingers and bit into it. She glared at him, but just picked up another one.

“Sure.” And that was final. Naomi had the innate talent to be able to end any sort of discussion she was in if she thought it was done. She and Chrisjen were alike that way, though she suspected neither of them would see that as a compliment. Naomi turned her attention back on Bobbie as Amos basically attacked the snacks. “I still can’t believe you’re wearing heels.”

“It was torture the first few days, but I’ve gotten used to it now, but my feet are still very grateful when I take them off at the end of the day.” There may have been blisters the first time she wore pumps. She was fine with high-heeled boots, but pumps, it had taken her a little time to get used to those. There was still that ache when she took them off and put her feet flat on the floor, but she was alright with it now.

“Maybe your boss can do that next. She introduced more diversity into fashion. High heels are monstrous.” Naomi only wore clunky boots or worn down sneakers. Maybe sandals if the weather got really hot. And she tended to dislike a lot of things that were expected of women, like wearing heels, having long hair, not having visible tattoos. She was a rebel.

“Yeah, I doubt that. It’s like she was born with them on, she seems so comfortable in them. And I just can’t imagine Runway without the sounds of heels clacking on the floor.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Bobbie Draper?” Naomi said with a smile and covered Bobbie’s hand. “No, but seriously, I really want to hate your job and how it is changing you, but you seem good. Happy even.”

“I think I am. It’s hard work, but I don’t dislike it. I have friends there now and either I’m getting used to Chrisjen or she has gotten nicer.” She hadn’t expected it, liking this job or the people who worked there. She had gone into it with the mentality of getting through the year, doing a good job and then getting out. It had only been a few months, but she was getting attached to it.

She had even gone out with Drummer and Cotyar to a bar that looked like a technobunker in Berlin, but was in fact a bar that drew a varied clientele. Drummer wasn’t a social creature, but she had been pleasant, talking about the failed assistants before Bobbie, girls with big dreams and a severe case of hero worship. The three of them had laughed about Chrisjen making one of them cry because she thought Chrisjen would be a nice person and say ‘thank you’ and hand out gold stars or something.

And Chrisjen, she didn’t say thank you to Bobbie either, but she seemed less harsh. The way she threw her coat on Bobbie’s desk or in her arms had become less thoughtless. Bobbie seriously thought the tasks she had to do were getting less meaningless. But really, it could be all in her head, a case of workplace Stockholm syndrome. And she was admiring what she did more. She had begun to see that it took a lot to produce a magazine like Runway every month and not dip in any standards.

The rest of their evening at the bar was nice. Alex mentioned that the head chef of the gastrobar was thinking of moving on and that he would have a great chance of getting that positions. Naomi talked about designing some complicated program that would eventually help those wrongfully incarcerated appeal their cases easier which was admirable. Amos even volunteered information about having met a guy whose car he was repairing who turned out to be an artist with plants or was inspired by them. He didn’t do a great job of explaining it, but his face softened as he spoke about it.

They had just ordered their last round of beers, the atmosphere was relaxed and Bobbie was glad that Chrisjen hadn’t texted or called her once when Amos, who had been messing about on his phone, raised his eyebrows. “Huh. Did you know your boss has been dating Michael Iturbi?”

“What? No, she hasn’t.” Bobbie knew her schedule. She knew when she met her ex-husband when he was in town and when her granddaughter went to the dentist. Hell, she even knew where and when Chrisjen had her bikini wax appointments which she tried not to think about too much. She would know if Chrisjen were dating anyone. She would have been forced to either set it up or put it on the schedule.

“According to TMZ she has. And they do look very cozy.” Amos showed her the image on his phone. And there she was, her boss in a beautiful dress that showed off her shoulders, sitting close to a tall man with a nice jawline. She was even smiling. It looked like a date. It shouldn’t matter to her. It really shouldn’t. She was Chrisjen assistant, for fuck’s sake.

But watching her boss appear happy with this guy, it hurt. She felt this odd pressure in her chest and she wanted to slap the phone out of Amos’ hand. She knew she had a crush on the woman, but she thought that was it. She was a beautiful woman and she really wanted to know what she looked like naked. Now however, it hit her that it was more than just physical attraction. She had some sort of feelings for her. Shit.

“He is a genius when it comes to theoretical science. How does she even know him? And why is he dating her?” Naomi asked, zooming in on the picture and only making it so much worse. She could see that he has his hand on her arm. It felt like a punch to the gut.

“Runway did a series on female scientists a few years ago, he was a consultant,” she said flatly. It had been a great issue and she assumed that was how they met, but for all she knew, they had known each other for years.

“They look good together.” Alex commented.

“They do,” Bobbie managed past the lump in her throat. Ridiculous. She was being ridiculous. Without warning, she pushed her chair and got up, startling Naomi and Alex. She needed to get away before she made a complete fool of herself. “I’m gonna get some air.”

The cold air and the sound of traffic was a shock to her system and it sort of reset her a little, but her mind stayed firmly on Chrisjen and the fact that she was dating someone. The realization that she wanted to be the one dating her instead hit her like a ton of bricks. Wanting to fuck her boss was one thing, wanting to date her was a totally different thing and it complicated everything. She took a deep breath and leaned against the wall.

She barely knew Chrisjen. Sure, she knew her schedule and stuff that was on her Wikipedia page and what Cotyar and Bobbie had told her, but she didn’t really know the woman behind the Dragon lady image. How had she even developed feelings for her? Leave it to her to do that with the last woman she should have feelings for.

“I imagine it’s tough, liking your boss.” Amos said, nearly making Bobbie jump. She hadn’t heard him come out of the bar. He wasn’t teasing or being a dick about it. He had come out, because he realized something was wrong with her and to her surprise he had also known what. He leaned against the wall next to her, not touching her, but still being a slightly calming presence.

“It’s not fun, I’ll tell you that.”

“When did you know?” Bobbie snorted. She had found the woman attractive from moment one. Her face, those eyes, her lips and God, that voice. The woman had charm to her, something that drew Bobbie in even when she was being horrible.

“Consciously? Just now. Seeing her on her date, that hurt. But I found her beautiful from the moment I first saw her. How could I not?”

“She does have great tits,” Amos remarked dryly and Bobbie jabbed him in the side with her elbow.

“Amos.” He wasn’t wrong though, especially with the way Chrisjen always wore something that showed some cleavage. “But yes, she does, which doesn’t help me at all. I just have to get over this ridiculous crush and I’ll be fine.”

She said it with more confidence than she felt. She had only just realized that her crush went it a little deeper than she thought and that she had been in spectacular denial about it. “And how are you going to do that?”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I find out.” If she ever did. Besides, she only had the better part of a year to go and then she’d never have to see the woman again. That was going to be her strategy, just survive her year and dealing with her crush by never dealing with it.

“You alright?” Naomi asked when they walked back into the bar. Bobbie plopped down in her seat and took a large sip of her beer before answering.

“Fine.” Ish.

“She wants to fuck her boss and now she might have feelings for her,” Amos stated and Alex mouth fell open. It was a little funny considering he had just spilled the cause of Bobbie’s small meltdown like it was nothing.

“And this is news?”

Bobbie choked on her beer and looked at Naomi, a little shocked at her dry and matter of fact tone. “Naomi!”

“You’re working ridiculous hours and you barely complain, she’s a beautiful older woman who is probably straight, so exactly your type. And last but not least, your little makeover. I thought hell had to freeze over before we’d see you in some clothes that properly fit. You wouldn’t do all of that for just a job.” Bobbie listened to Naomi listing off all the reasons she had already known Bobbie had feelings for her boss and she had to admit that she was right. She should have realized it a lot sooner.

“She has a point,” Alex said, causing Bobbie to throw her napkin at him.

“Okay, so now we all know. Great. Can we stop talking about it?”

“She might not be straight,” Amos pointed out and that momentarily froze Bobbie’s brain. Chrisjen had never publicly dated a woman. Of course she had been married for decades up until about four years ago. She had been spotted with a few men, but never a woman, so Bobbie hadn’t entertained the idea that Chrisjen wasn’t straight. Oh man. She highly doubted that Chrisjen was bisexual, but that idea was a very nice one.

“I think Chrisjen not being queer is genuinely the smallest problem in this whole thing. And it’s not a thing! I just have to finish my year and then I’ll be gone and it will be fine.” She hoped so anyway.

* * *

It wasn’t fine.

Granted, she didn’t make a fool of herself in front of Chrisjen. She didn’t walk up to her and said ‘Hey don’t date the theoretical science genius with the nice jawline, date me, your second assistant who is decades younger and relies on you to make her career’. So it could have been a lot worse.

It also could have been a lot better. She kept imagining Chrisjen with this Michael guy, that he was the one who got to make her happy, that he was the one Chrisjen took home and invited into her bedroom. She was also constantly afraid that it was somehow written on her face that she had feelings for her. She kept thinking that Drummer was going to say something about it. Or that Chrisjen was just going to walk up to her tell her to get the fuck out, because she didn’t need a lovesick assistant around.

Thankfully, none of that happened. But she did fumble a bit more in her work, like it was her first week. Chrisjen got annoyed with her and Drummer wondered what the hell was going on, but Bobbie just told her that it wasn’t her week, which was true. Cotyar, who was aware of at least some of her feelings towards Chrisjen texted her with a ‘I don’t know what’s going on, Red, but if you don’t get your act together, even the boots won’t save you.’

Bobbie contemplated putting the boots on the following Monday. If they had managed to get Chrisjen to put aside her disappointment about not being there for her granddaughter, they would definitely work for a less than perfect week. But she decided against it and just went with shoving any and all ideas about Chrisjen’s dating life to the back of her head while at work, which was easier said than done.

Especially when Chrisjen showed up in a tight black dress with an impossibly white blouse under it, a decorative necklace covering her chest. It just made Bobbie want to tell her that she looked beautiful. She didn’t, but she wanted to. And just like that, seeing Chrisjen look so beautiful, she decided that her motivation for not making a fool out of herself and not doing her job as well as she could, was to make sure that she didn’t disappoint Chrisjen.

Was it healthy? Probably not. But it worked. She got back to being good at her job, to finishing everything on time or with time to spare, anticipating when Chrisjen wanted a non-scheduled tea, having her car ready before she could ask for it. Chrisjen was back to, not smiling at her, but it was like something in her expression softened and her ‘fuck offs’ sounded less harsh. It made Bobbie feel better and she practically floated through the day when Chrisjen had given her an almost smile.

She didn’t even mind that at 5pm on the next Monday Chrisjen told her to pick up the sketches from some designer she had never heard of. After calling around she found out the only way to get them was to go to some party (who even had a party on Monday?) and he would give them to her personally. It sucked that her evening was now effectively ruined, but this was an easy task and she had this. Chrisjen would have those sketches waiting on her desk for tomorrow morning.

The party was in some basement club. The music wasn’t obnoxiously loud, but Bobbie didn’t care for this weird house meets techno beat. It was alright, she wasn’t here to party anyway. She asked some curly haired kid who didn’t look old enough to drink where she could find the host and he just made some wild gesture with a big grin. “Look for the guy in the hat, ké?”

“Thanks.” That didn’t seem very helpful. At least she was towering over most of the people there in her heels and it didn’t take her that long to spot ‘the guy in the hat’. Josephus ‘Joe’ Miller, a designer who, according to Cotyar, held a lot of promise, but was unpredictable. She would have to take his word for it. Other than wearing a hat indoors, he didn’t seem to have any of the flair most designers seemed to have.

“Hi, Mr. Miller? Chrisjen Avasarala sent me.”

“Miller is fine.” He looked up at her with narrowed eyes and a look of disdain. She wondered if he had the same attitude around Chrisjen or anyone that could make or break his career. “Chrisjen is hiring bodyguards now, is she? At least you’re an elegant one. Diogo! Get me my book.”

Bobbie hoped he had been drinking, because she did not care for his attitude at all. Luckily, the curly haired kid from before appeared earlier, carrying a leather-bound portfolio that held the sketches to his designs for his next collection. Miller took it and held for a moment as if he were saying goodbye to it. “Guard this with your life and have at least one drink.”

“Thank you.” Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. It was late already and it was a Monday. She took his portfolio and turned on her heel, making her way through the guests back towards the exit when out of nowhere someone turned away from the bar and into her path. She couldn’t swerve to avoid it and bumped into it, causing him to spill his drink down the front of his shirt.

“Shit. I’m sorry,” Bobbie said when she saw the damage their collision had caused. His drink, which turned out to be coffee, had left a rather large stain down the front of his sweater. The man she had bumped into looked a little dejected, but with a sigh and shrug he turned his attention towards Bobbie with a comforting smile. He looked vaguely familiar.

“Don’t be. I didn’t look before turning, so this was kinda my fault.” That was surprisingly nice. She had expected him to be a dick about it and make a fuss. This was a fashion designer’s party after all. Clothes mattered. Though, Bobbie wasn’t sure, bu his sweater didn’t look designer or even that expensive.

“You didn’t. But my clothes are fine and yours aren’t. Let me pay for dry cleaning or something.”

“It’s nice that you think my clothes are good enough for dry cleaning. So that won’t be necessary.” She’d have to tell Cotyar that she had guessed right about his sweater not being expensive. His tutelage and working around Runway were starting to rub off on her. Before he knew it, she’d be giving out fashion advice.

“How are you at a fashion designer’s party if you’re clothes are washing machine safe?” Bobbie joked.

“He and I are old friends. James Holden, by the way.” He held out his hand and Bobbie’s eyes widened. That’s why he looked familiar, because she had seen his face before.

“Oh my god. The investigative journalist James Holden? The James Holden that took down a billionaire underpaying 90% of his company?” She had read his articles, watched a documentary based on his work. He was not like most journalists. He seemed to stumble into crazy situation and then used that to turn everything on its head and dismantle companies and even a corrupt government. She admired his work.

“You’ve read my work.”

“I love it! I’m trying to get a career in journalism as well and your work inspires me.”

“Thanks. I don’t get that a lot. Especially in this crowd. You should sent me some of your stuff. Maybe I can hook you up with some people.” Bobbie nearly dropped the book she was holding. Was he serious? He knew so many influential people. If he decided he liked her work, he could launch her career maybe faster than Chrisjen could. She didn’t expect that to happen, but to even have the opportunity meant a lot to her.

“I don’t have any formal training. But yes, I can send you some things, that would great, thank you!”

“No problem. Do you want a drink?” Holden asked as he flagged down the bartender to replace his spilled coffee. Bobbie really wanted to. She could discuss his work and talk about what she had done while she was in the military.

“I can’t. I have work tomorrow and I have to deliver these safely to my boss.” She pointed at the portfolio. Even though Miller had told to stay for a drink, staying with sketches she had to guard with her life in a club with people getting increasingly drunker didn’t seem like the smartest idea.

“Your boss being?”

“Chrisjen Avasarala.” Holden smiled, obviously recognizing the name and being familiar with her reputation.

“I should have guessed with those clothes. Well, if I had her as a boss, I would decline a drink as well. But my offer to send some of your work over was sincere, so please do that.” He handed over his card and Bobbie knew she’d guard that with her life sooner than Miller’s designs. This was huge. It was an actual shot at getting a start at being a journalist. She was practically bouncing with happiness.

“I will!”

* * *

She didn’t notice any of the fatigue the following day. She had wanted to email Holden her work as soon as she got home, but instead put it in her calendar so she wouldn’t seem totally crazy. Miller’s designs were waiting on Chrisjen’s desk and her boss actually seemed in a pretty decent mood that morning. Compared to two weeks ago, this one was already amazing and it was only Tuesday. She happily called photographers and agents, it didn’t matter. She just felt good.

“Bobbie.” She jumped up and walked into the office, getting a curious look from Drummer who was probably wondering why she was being so annoyingly chipper.

Chrisjen was standing at her desk, bent over the portfolio that Bobbie had procured last night. It was nothing new, except that she was wearing a loose blouse today and it gaped open in this position, giving Bobbie a spectacular view of her cleavage. Her mouth was suddenly very dry. She had never seen her breasts quite like this before, encased in thin lace, a hint of red at the edges. The bra was practically see-through, making her think for a moment that she could even see her nipples. She kind of wanted to run and hide. This was so much more than she was equipped to handle. It brought back all the feelings she had been ignoring.

“Yes, Chrisjen?” Her voice was shaky and she prayed that Chrisjen didn’t notice. Fortunately, she seemed to be too distracted by disapproving of the sketch in front of her to pay attention to her second assistant. Bobbie just had to stand there and watch as Chrisjen tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear and tilted her head, before looking up at Bobbie over the rim of her reading glasses. Bobbie thought she would melt right then and there, the cleavage, the glasses, it was too much for any lesbian to deal with.

“When is the showcase with Joe Miller scheduled?” Bobbie had to wade through the fog that had suddenly clouded her mind. How was she so weak for this woman and the way she looked? It all just seemed so effortless too. Was she aware of the effect she had on Bobbie and probably a lot more people as well?

“Friday, 10 am,” Bobbie answered when it finally came to her. Oh god, she had been feeling so good. Now was not the time to start slipping again.

“Move it to tomorrow, 9 am.” Moving a showcase up probably didn’t mean anything good and having met Miller, she doubted tomorrow was going to go well, but that wasn’t her problem. She just had to move the showcase.

“Yes, Chrisjen.” She was already walking out of the office when Chrisjen spoke again, causing her to stop.

“And Bobbie?”

“Yes?”

“Fuck off.” It was her signature sign off to a lot of conversations, but this time, it felt different and she knew she wasn’t imagining it. There was practically a smirk playing on Chrisjen’s lips and the look in her eyes was almost teasing, playful. Bobbie was speechless, so she simply nodded and left, replaying that moment over and over in her head. Was Chrisjen just in an extremely good mood today? Was she playing with her? She couldn’t make sense of it.

She wanted to ask Cotyar, but he would just tease her about wanting to bang her boss as would Drummer whom he had spilled her not so well-hidden secret to one night when they had been drinking at the office. Plus they would both say it was just in her head, that she was seeing what she wanted to see. But that wasn’t the case this time. Chrisjen never made a point of calling her name to then tell her to fuck off. This was something different. She inwardly groaned and moved her attention to rescheduling the showcase.

* * *

Leave it to Chrisjen to still want to come into her office to have her tea before they all left for Miller’s studio instead of just having everybody meet there. It meant having to order more cars and everybody waiting around, a little nervously, until Chrisjen had finished her tea and caught up on some of her emails, before they could leave. As it turned out, she had been right. Chrisjen moving up a showcase usually didn’t predict anything good. So there was a weird tension, as if everybody was preparing themselves for a bomb to go off.

When Chrisjen walked out of her office and grabbed the coat that Bobbie held out for her, she paused for a moment, allowing her gaze to go from the tips of Bobbie’s pointed boots up to collar of her shirt which had some strategically placed beads on it and then further up to her eyes. Her expression was unreadable and Bobbie held her breath for as long as Chrisjen was looking into her eyes. “You’re coming with me to the showcase.”

Bobbie briefly looked over to Drummer who seemed as surprised as Bobbie felt. Chrisjen normally didn’t bring an assistant to a showcase. She brought Cotyar and other people that put together the photoshoots, decided on what was going to be the next trend. She didn’t need an assistant there to make note, because all Chrisjen did there was pass judgement on what was shown to her and then left. But apparently Chrisjen wanted her second assistant there today.

“Yes, Chrisjen.” Throwing on her jacket, she quickly followed Chrisjen who wasn’t waiting for her and just marched towards the elevators quicker than should have been possible with her height while wearing heels. Bobbie caught up with her, foolishly hoping she would get some kind of explanation as to why Chrisjen suddenly wanted her to come to the showcase. But Chrisjen stayed silent until they reached the elevators. Bobbie had never been in an elevator with her and starting now felt wrong so she waited while Chrisjen got inside.

“Just get the fuck in.” Being in a small, closed off space with Chrisjen was both a fantasy come true and a nightmare at the same time. Bobbie remembered the technique she had been taught in the military to keep her breathing under control before pulling the trigger and practiced it as the doors slid shut. Chrisjen didn’t say anything, she just stared ahead, coat thrown over her shoulders, Miller’s portfolio under her arm.

It wasn’t the worst elevator ride she had ever been on, but it was a far cry from the best. Bobbie was trying so hard to not look at her. Chrisjen would immediately know. She almost breathed a sigh of relief when the doors slid open and her boss walked out, crossing the lobby. It was interesting to see how people moved aside for, making sure they wouldn’t block her path, even outside the Mao-Kwikowski building on the side walk, people made sure she could reach her car without any hindrance.

Bobbie was already moving to the car behind Chrisjen’s. She’d gladly ride with Cotyar, but Chrisjen gave her a ‘what the fuck are you thinking?’ look and jerked her head before gracefully sliding into her car. Cotyar raised his eyebrows at Bobbie and she just shrugged, not having a single clue why Chrisjen wanted her in her car either.

If she thought that the elevator had been a lot to handle, this was worse. The silence was weighing heavily on Bobbie and it didn’t help that she could smell Chrisjen’s perfume, sitting this close to her. She’d already checked off all of the items on her to do list that could be arranged via text or email and now she was looking at the phone in her hands, trying very hard not to look at the woman who had the portfolio on her lap and was leafing through the sketches.

She was wearing a pantsuit today that was cut perfectly for her body and Bobbie wasn’t quite sure if she even had something underneath the low-cut blazer other than a bra. The large, ornate necklace did nothing to hide her cleavage. Bobbie could see it glint from the corner of her eye as Chrisjen shifted. Before this she had thought it would make her day her little easier if Chrisjen ever decided to wear pants. And then Chrisjen had walked in a Prussian blue suit and she knew she had been so wrong.

“Tell me.” Chrisjen’s voice wasn’t any louder than usual, but Bobbie still jumped when she heard it. She turned towards and put on what she hoped was a face that didn’t portray she had been thinking about her boss’ breasts and the kind of lingerie she might wear under a suit like that. “What do you think about this gown?”

Bobbie felt her eyebrows nearly disappear into her hairline. Chrisjen Avasarala, queen of all things fashion, was asking her for her opinion about a dress? Asking about how her boots felt was one thing, that was a personal experience, but this was fashion. Chrisjen, however, didn’t think there was anything strange about her question and handed Bobbie a sketch. Her hand only shook a little when she took it and looked at it. It was a pretty dress at first glance. Black fabric and blue lines, an exaggerated mermaid bottom and geometric designs on the bodice. The sleeves were…weird. The longer Bobbie looked at it, the less she liked it.

“Well?” Bobbie swallowed and found Chrisjen looking at her expectantly when she tore her eyes away from the sketch. Chrisjen had turned a little to the side, giving Bobbie her full attention which was more than a little intimidating. If this was a test, she had no idea how to pass it. She didn’t know fashion. She just knew she didn’t like that dress.

“I don’t think I like it. It looks nice at first, but now, I’m not so sure.” It made her feel uncomfortable in a strange way. The blue designs weren’t ugly, but they seemed constricting in a way.

“Why?” Oh, Chrisjen really wanted to know her opinion, giving nothing away if Bobbie had been right to dislike the dress. She couldn’t tell her about the pattern making her uncomfortable, that would just make her sound weird.

“It doesn’t seem right. The sleeves don’t work. That’s the only thing I know. But I don’t like it.” The sleeves were too much and she hoped she was right. There wasn’t anywhere to go if she had pissed Chrisjen off. She had a feeling being trapped with the woman while she was angry was a very bad thing.

“I agree. There’s a fuckton of other reasons why this gown is horrendous, but you are not wrong. Would it surprise you to learn it was designed for me?” Bobbie glanced at the design again and tried to picture Chrisjen in it. She liked the idea of seeing her in something form-fitting, but other than it wouldn’t suit her in the slightest. She was short and this would only make her look shorter than she already was and the sleeves would overwhelm her.

“It was? Holy shit, no.” The words left Bobbie’s mouth before she could stop herself. She was fully expecting Chrisjen to say something about her reaction, but instead her boss looked almost amused.

“Quite. Miller holds promise as a designer, but this is a piece of shit. If he cannot design anything better, he is going to be in deep shit.” Having met Miller, however briefly, she didn’t expect that to go well.

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure what to say to that. Chrisjen reached over and took the sketch out of her hands. Her fingers brushed against Bobbie’s and she paused for the briefest of moment. Bobbie was afraid to move. That small touch had felt like a spark. It was the first time Chrisjen had ever touched her. It had been so soft, barely there, but Bobbie could feel the effect of it. Her face felt hot and Chrisjen’s touch echoed on her skin. She was so fucked.

Chrisjen pulled her hand back, clearing her throat as she put the design for her gown back into the portfolio. “From now on, you deliver the Book every night. Drummer will instruct you. I’m sure she’ll be glad to have her nights back.”

Which meant that Bobbie’s weeknights had just disappeared. She knew what waiting for the Book was like, long and boring. But Drummer had told her she would get that job eventually if Chrisjen deemed her competent enough and trusted her enough to allow her into her house. So her nights were shot to hell, but it almost felt like a promotion without extra pay. Chrisjen thought she was doing a good job as her assistant.

Bobbie nodded and smiled. “Thank you.”

Chrisjen stayed quiet the rest of the ride and Bobbie was mind stuck on that soft touch and the fact that she was going to be in Chrisjen’s house delivering the all-important Book that held the mockup of the next issue and that Chrisjen read every night and returned with notes the next morning. It was what made sure the magazine never failed to meet Chrisjen’s incredibly high standards.

Miller’s studio was surprisingly light, although it was painfully obvious that it had been cleaned in a rush to accommodate for Chrisjen’s visit. Bobbie sat beside her as the models appeared one by one and Miller explained what the pieces were and sometimes his thought process behind them. He sounded almost disinterested as he spoke, but it was clear that he cared about his work, that he had thought about every single piece he showed them. It wasn’t bad, Bobbie thought. Blue seemed to be a running theme, but otherwise it was very different from the dress for Chrisjen.

When a model came out wearing a prototype of the gown for Chrisjen, Bobbie glanced at the woman beside her. She liked it even less in person and apparently so did Chrisjen. Her expression wasn’t exactly guarded. It spoke volumes about her dislike for it. It was a scary look and Bobbie was glad to not be in the receiving end of it. Miller stuck his hands in his pockets when he was done. He was still wearing that hat and while he didn’t look nervous, Bobbie could tell he knew he wasn’t going to get a gold star.

“You’re on the right track with your collection. But if you think I will wear that gown, you have lost your fucking mind.” Ouch. Everybody from Runway collectively held their breath and watched as Chrisjen got up from her seat, a look of pure disdain on her face as she glanced at the gown. The poor model almost seemed to shrink even though it wasn’t her fault that she was wearing it.

“It’s not finished,” Miller said, waving his hand in the air as if he were going to magically finish and fix the dress. Chrisjen narrowed her eyes.

“It shouldn’t be finished. Trash it. You have a week to send me a new sketch.” That was cold. Necessary but very cold. At least she had said his collection was on the right track, Bobbie thought. Miller looked as if he were about to get into Chrisjen’s face, but Chrisjen simply turned around and left the studio. Bobbie quickly followed, only just catching Cotyar stepping forward to talk to Miller. Probably to stop him from killing their boss and translate Chrisjen’s less than subtle words.

* * *

Chrisjen had been right, not surprisingly. Drummer was glad to get her evenings back. Bobbie knew why the Book was so important, but come on, surely there was a way to do this digitally. But nope, Chrisjen wanted it to see it printed, because the magazine was going to be printed. All the digital content she approved or nixed during the day. But the Book was sacred and she needed it delivered at home every night along with her dry cleaning.

Waiting for the Book to be ready was incredibly boring. Bobbie resorted to watching Netflix, because her shows had been piling up since she started this job and she had, according to her friends, been missing out. It also helped her resist the urge to snoop around in Chrisjen’s office. It was a terrible idea and she was sure Chrisjen would somehow be able to sniff out that she had been in there and touching her things.

She looked down at her hand, where Chrisjen had touched her. She could still feel it. Her fingertips were so soft and she had paused for a short moment after it had happened as if it had affected her as well. Bobbie was probably imagining that. There was no way Chrisjen was in any way affected by Bobbie. She was too poised and too dating someone else to care about a woman like her. Though Bobbie had been paying attention and Chrisjen hadn’t scheduled any dinners with him or dinners where she left blank who she was going with. Nothing in her routine had changed, so maybe she wasn’t dating him. Or that was what she was hoping anyway.

It was late when the Book arrived. She was tired and hungry, vowing to just order dinner in the next day, so she was glad that she could use one of cars, with driver, to go and pick up the dry cleaning and deliver everything to Chrisjen’s house. That she now had a key to. That idea alone was a little ridiculous. She could just walk into her boss’ house now, like it was nothing. She realized this was what assistants did, but she had to get used to the idea of now having a key to some swanky townhouse.

And swanky it was. It exuded money from the outside and Bobbie felt a little intimidated. She knew Chrisjen had money. Her family had been rich, she was the sole heir and of course, she ran her own fashion empire. The inside was warmer than she had expected, a lot flowers and earth tones. A buddha statue that could be the twin of the one Chrisjen had in office was positioned at the end of the hallway. There was art on the wall, as well as family pictures. It was an actual home of a real human being.

Bobbie stopped to look at one of the pictures that she almost found hard to believe that Chrisjen had put in her hallway, because it showed a side to her that Bobbie had never seen. It was Chrisjen holding a little girl, her granddaughter and she seemed to be tickling her. The pair of them were laughing and that’s what got to Bobbie. She had never seen or heard Chrisjen laugh and it changed her face completely. She looked so unguarded. It was beautiful.

Shaking herself out of her little crush moment she looked around. Drummer had said to put the dry cleaning in the hall closet. There were several doors in the hall. Hoping Chrisjen wouldn’t suddenly walk down the stairs, she opened the door most likely to be the closet and thankfully she had guessed right. The next bit was harder. She was supposed to put the Book on the table with a gold ornament on top of it. But there were several table that had that.

“Uh-oh,” she said quietly. She couldn’t mess this up.

“Are you new?” a small voice asked. Frowning Bobbie turned around and looked up. Way up on the staircase was Chrisjen’s granddaughter, looking adorable in her pajamas, though Bobbie was sure that it was too late for her to be up right now. Even from this distance, Bobbie could see that she had Chrisjen’s big eyes.

“Yes. I’m Bobbie.” She prayed that Chrisjen wouldn’t hear them. She didn’t want to get caught talking to her granddaughter, considering how much she kept this little girl away from the media and her work. But she couldn’t just ignore her either.

“Kiki.” Bobbie smiled.

“Hi! Do you know where Drummer usually puts this?” She held up the Book. It was worth a shot. Otherwise she would just take a gamble, put it on a table and deal with the consequences tomorrow. Kiki frowned and leaned forward a little, making her look even more like her grandmother.

“No. I’m supposed to be asleep. But I did see that lady with the dark eyes bring it up.” That didn’t sound right. Drummer would have told her if she had to walk up the stairs, right? Not that her instructions had been that detailed, but stairs seemed like a crucial element.

“Are you sure?”

The girl nodded. “Yes.”

Bobbie bit her bottom lip. She could just drop it on a table and leave. But if Chrisjen expected the Book upstairs and it wasn’t delivered to its rightful spot, she might not discover it downstairs until morning and then it would definitely be Bobbie’s problem. Shit. Alright. Going upstairs it was. Slowly she walked up the stairs, trying not to make a noise. There were more family photos on the wall, but she didn’t take the time to look at them. She felt like she was going on a stealth mission.

She was close to the top, so close when she heard voices and she froze. Could she make it down the stairs again without being discovered? Probably not, she was wearing heels and there wasn’t any carpet on the stairs to muffle the sound. Put the Book down and walk down casually like she was supposed to do this? That didn’t seem right either, because it sounded like Chrisjen was having argument and she knew she wasn’t supposed to be hearing that. And then the voices got closer.

“What do you want me to do, Arjun? Even I can’t move Fashion week.” Arguing with her ex-husband. This was terrible and Bobbie was just frozen. She had learned how to deal with fight or flight instincts, but never had she been a deer in headlights before. Arjun came out of a room, Chrisjen following him. She was barefoot, but otherwise still looked impeccable. Every part of her brain screamed at her to run, but her body wouldn’t obey.

“I know you can’t, but this is our son we’re talking about. It’s important to me. It’s important that Kiki knows we care about him.” Oh no. No no no. She had not accidentally walked into an argument about Chrisjen’s dead son. Chrisjen grabbed Arjun arm, making him stop close to the top of the stairs. The tears that Bobbie had seen in her eyes when she hadn’t been able to be there for Kiki, those tears were there again.

“Don’t you dare imply he wasn’t important to me. You were there. You saw…” Chrisjen’s gaze moved beyond her ex-husband and she looked straight at Bobbie who, more than anything, wished she could just disappear. Bobbie expected to be cursed out, to be fired on the spot, anything, but Chrisjen just stared at her in a way that made her blood turn to ice. Arjun rolled his eyes, mumbling something about Chrisjen’s work and disappeared into a room.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” It was an ice-cold hiss.

“I thought - - I didn’t know.” Out of all the things that could have happened, this was probably the worst case scenario.

“Leave. Now.” She didn’t need to be told twice. She spun on her heel and descended the stairs as quickly as she could, dropping the book on a random table in the hall and bolting out the door into the car. The driver looked at her a little questioningly, but Bobbie didn’t care. Her hands were shaking and she was about two seconds away from crying. This was bad. This was so fucking bad. This was ‘she had just lost her job and Chrisjen would blacklist her everywhere bad’. Digging into her bag, she pulled out her phone and called the only person she thought might be able to help her.

“Cotyar. I fucked up.”

“Again?” He asked dryly. Bobbie clenched her jaw. Oh sometimes she wanted to punch him so badly.

“Can you not? I think she might have me killed or something. It’s bad.”

After a beat of silent, he sounded more serious. He must have heard the desperation in her voice. “Okay, I know a little place. I’ll text you the info. Let’s talk, calm you down.”

She instructed the driver to take her to the address Cotyar had sent her and spent the entire drive wondering what the hell she was going to do without this job and without any prospect of working as a journalist in America. Maybe she could move abroad, go back to New Zealand, even though she hadn’t lived there since she was twelve. Her thoughts were spiraling by the time they pulled to a small bar. Absentmindedly, she thanked the driver and was relieved to find Cotyar waiting for her inside.

“Alright, spill what did you do?” He pushed a beer towards and Bobbie was infinitely grateful that he had already ordered. Taking a sip, she tried to calm down, but her hands were still shaking. She hadn’t been this affected since seeing active combat.

“I went to deliver the book and Drummer’s instructions weren’t all that clear.”

“She’s done it hundreds of times, they were probably clear to her.”

“Probably. Anyway Kiki was up and I didn’t know where to put the Book. She said she had seen a lady with dark eyes bring it up. I didn’t want to fuck up on my first night, so I went up.”

Cotyar’s eyes widened, knowing where this was going. “Oh no.”

“It gets worse. I saw her with her ex, they were arguing about their son and Fashion week. And then they saw me. She saw me.” She didn’t bother explaining how Chrisjen had looked at her. He could imagine it himself. She didn’t think she would ever be able to forget that look. It was worse than the Miami debacle. So much worse.

“Well, Red, that just might be a hole I can’t help you out of.”

“Thanks.” She didn’t think he could. She just needed to tell this someone who would understand and not judge her too hardly for being a fucking idiot. Cotyar sighed and rubbed his chin.

“Chrisjen is not an easy woman, but Charanpal is the one subject that she avoids at all costs. She keeps her personal life mostly personal, but she mentions a little something here or there. Charanpal is the exception. His death nearly broke her.” Bobbie couldn’t picture a woman like Chrisjen being broken. She had seen parents who had lost a child and she was certain there was no greater pain. Knowing that Chrisjen and her ex-husband had gone through that and she had seen a small part of it, she wished she could turn back time and never witness it.

“You were at Runway when it happened, weren’t you?”

“I was. It wasn’t good. She buried herself in her work, barely left the office. She lost weight, her marriage went to shit, she picked a fight with Mao that nearly cost her Runway. She had this little statue on the windowsill, a gift from her father. She smashed it right in front of him.” Chrisjen losing control had to be terrifying to watch. It had affected Cotyar. He almost looked pained talking about it.

“I can’t even imagine what she went through. How did she go from that to - -“

“The Chrisjen we know and love now? Her daughter. She showed up one day after Chrisjen had been working non-stop for a week. She brought Kiki with her. I don’t know what exactly happened, Chrisjen never told me. What I do know is that she finally allowed herself to grieve, accepted custody of Kiki and found a healthier work schedule. Her marriage, though, was beyond saving.”

“Jesus,” Bobbie said quietly, staring at her beer. She knew what had happened was tragic, but hearing what had actually happened, it was worse and Chrisjen never showed that pain. Or hadn’t in a way that Bobbie had been able to see. She was regretting making this mistake more every minute.

“She’s made of strong stuff, but you saw something that she never wants anyone to see. She’s not necessarily vindictive, but tomorrow is not going to be fun.” Yeah, she figured. She was preparing herself for fire and brimstone.

“So I’m fired.”

“I can’t say. She likes you, thinks you’re surprisingly competent. She might not fire you without cause. She might give you an unreasonably impossible task and fire you when you fail.”

“Great.” She had failed tonight, be forced to fail tomorrow and then Chrisjen would no doubt verbally eviscerate her and kick her out of the Mao-Kwikowski building for the rest of her life. She let her head fall into her hands.

“I could be wrong. I’ve known her for eighteen years and she still manages to surprise me. She hired you, for one and then she kept you around even though you kept looking like a walking fashion disaster. Trust me when I say I thought I was imagining it when she said she likes you and the way you don’t back down. She started trusting that you wouldn’t fuck up. Now you have. She doesn’t take that very well.” Bobbie looked up. Chrisjen had said that she liked her?

Ugh.

Of course, just when Chrisjen was starting to trust and talking to her almost like she was human and not just some lowly assistant, Bobbie would manage to screw it all up for herself. She hadn’t wanted to disappoint her again, and she had in the worst way possible. It was going to be a long and restless night and tomorrow could possibly turn out to be one of the worst days of her life. And she wished there was a way she wouldn’t have to experience it.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning Bobbie felt like absolute shit. She almost considered wearing her old clothes. Might as well be comfortable if she were going down. But after she had woken up properly and had ordered her thoughts somewhat she decided that she wasn’t going down without a fight. Chrisjen might search for an actual reason to fire her and hit her with something impossible, but today, Bobbie would try to make the impossible happen, whatever it was.

She’d face whatever was thrown her way and deal with it. Yes, she had fucked up and the memory of the argument and the way Chrisjen had looked at her, it still weighed heavily on her, but she didn’t feel as defeated as yesterday. She had been doing so well yesterday up until that point. What she needed was to get back to that and she was going to do whatever it took to convince Chrisjen that she could do this job and do it well. No more fuck-ups.

She walked into the office with her head held high, carrying the perfect coffee and tea order. She arranged Chrisjen’s desk, told Drummer what had happened tonight, got a spectacular glare in return, but when she told her she was going to do whatever it took to stay, the glare softened and she just got a ‘you better fucking do everything to stay’. It wasn’t the same as a good luck, but to Bobbie it counted as some form of support anyway.

Straightening her shoulders and imagining her spine was reinforced with steel, she waited for Chrisjen at the elevator. She was prepared for her to immediately drop a bomb on her. But as the doors slid open and Chrisjen stepped off the elevator, dressed to kill, she surprisingly started rattling her orders as usual. Bobbie put down which photographers to contact, which shoots needed re-editing, appointments that had to be made. It was business as usual.

Chrisjen put a coat little harder than necessary on Bobbie’s desk, but she didn’t stop talking, so maybe that hadn’t been on purpose. Bobbie thought, or hoped, for a moment that Chrisjen had decided to let it slide. Cotyar said she was still capable of surprising him. She was already on her way out of the office, feeling relieved that Chrisjen hadn’t decided on punishing her in some way, when the woman cleared her throat.

“And Bobbie? Kiki is going to stay with my daughter for a few nights. She leaves at five and she wants to watch Wonder Woman while traveling.” That was it? That wasn’t impossible. Wasn’t that movie on Netflix? It didn’t matter. She was fairly certain that Kiki would be travelling with an iPad, so she’d just have to make sure she could access it at all times. It wouldn’t be difficult.

“Sure, I can make that happen.”

“She wants Wonder Woman 1984. _Make it happen_. Fuck off.” Chrisjen sat down behind her desk, crossing her legs and that was it, conversation over. Bobbie stared at her and then turned around to leave her office, Her limbs felt like lead. Cotyar had said impossible and that was definitely very impossible. Making a pitstop at the moon before flying to Mars seemed easier and more likely to happen. 

“Oh god,” she whispered. The resolve she had felt that morning was melting away. She was hyped for the movie, but not to get her hands on it before it had even premiered. She looked at Drummer, wanting to explain it, but Drummer just shook her head.

“I heard.”

“How do I get that? The premiere isn’t for another month.” She collapsed in her chair. Could she fly down to Hollywood, rob the studio and upload it to the cloud before Kiki left? Doubtful, but that was the only plan she had. “Fuck.”

“And you have to your other works as well.” She shot Drummer a look that told her she wasn’t being helpful at all. She knew she still had to do her regular work, because if she failed at that and somehow managed to get the new Wonder Woman film, Chrisjen would probably still fire her for not doing her job. Drummer sighed. “She will know if I help you, but you work for one of the most powerful women in this country. Use that.”

Right. She did. She had the numbers to some of the most important and influential people at her fingertips and during the time she had worked here, she had made sure to be kind to their assistants, helped them out if their employer had pissed off Chrisjen. Maybe she could use that to get this task done or otherwise use Chrisjen’s terrifying energy. She had been capable of barking orders in the military, during active combat. She had to do it, if only for herself.

As it turned out, Chrisjen seemed intent on making sure she didn’t have enough time to do anything other than her job. She had to run all over New York to pick up clothes or decorations for a photoshoot. Suddenly she craved lunch from a place that couldn’t be further from Runway without crossing state lines if she tried. The long uber rides gave her time to call around, see what was possible.

It wasn’t going well. Some of the assistants she spoke to felt sorry for her, but they couldn’t do anything for her without losing their job. Others just laughed at her and wondered if she had lost her mind. She couldn’t blame them. She might have laughed as well if she had gotten a call out of nowhere going ‘Hi, so I fucked up and my boss is testing me, so I need a copy of a film that won’t be out for another month.’ Except she was the one calling and it was her job on the line.

When she returned to Runway to deliver Chrisjen’s lunch to her, she stopped dead in her tracks, tray in hand when she saw Chrisjen’s wasn’t alone in her office. She recognized him immediately. Michael Iturbi. He hadn’t been on the schedule and as far as she knew they weren’t going to do any pieces on science. So there she had it. Confirmation that they were dating. They seemed cozy enough, drinking tea.

Chrisjen looked at her when she walked in, a glint in her eyes that Bobbie didn’t like at all, almost as if she were rubbing it in Bobbie’s face that she was dating Iturbi, but surely she was imagining that. Chrisjen wouldn’t know or care that Bobbie had feelings for her and she certainly wouldn’t go out of her way to point out that she wasn’t available anymore. She never looked away as Bobbie put the tray on her desk. Bobbie put on her best fake smile, which probably sucked, nodded towards Iturbi.

“If you don’t have that what I want by five, pack your desk and get the fuck out of here.” Yeah. Bobbie had already assumed that her job was on the line so this wasn’t news to her, but to hear it, really did make it final. It gave her four and half hours to save her job. As she returned to her desk, she seriously considered calling Gal Gadot herself. They had her number or her assistant’s number anyway. But she doubted Wonder Woman herself had access to the full copy of the movie.

“Haven’t had any luck, I take it?”

“Nope.”

“Short of hacking into the production company, I don’t see a solution.” Bobbie groaned miserably and let her head fall onto her desk. She could take a moment to wallow in self-pity. Luckily she heard Iturbi leave during that moment, so that made her life a little less terrible. She couldn’t hack into anything. She got technology just fine, but she didn’t speak its language.

She jerked upright and Drummer raised her eyebrows in surprise.

She didn’t speak its language, but she knew someone who did. Someone who had been known to get into the illegal side of things.

“I’m going for lunch,” she stated as she jumped up, grabbing her phone. Fuck lunch. Instead of taking the elevator down to the cafeteria, she took it up as high as it could go and then took the stairs to the roof. She had gone there before when she needed a moment to herself. The view was a little dizzying, but to have nothing but the wind and soft sounds of the city below, it was calming. It was also very private as she dialed a familiar number.

“Naomi, I need your help. You know how to hack, right?” She could practically hear Naomi roll her eyes. She didn’t care. She was suddenly a little hyper with energy. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of this before.

“It’s not the nineties, so we don’t call it that, but yes.”

“How good are you?”

“Good enough to get into a few government servers that could get me life in prison and yet, I’ve never been caught.” Bobbie pumped her fist. That was exactly what she needed. A production company wouldn’t have the same level of security as the government. She hoped so, anyway. Alright, no need to beat around the bush. She needed her.

“Can you steal the new Wonder Woman movie from Warner Bros.?” There was a long silence where she could hear Naomi moving from wherever she was to somewhere that had no background noise. The suspense was killing her.

“I can. But why should I?”

“Long story short, I fucked up and if I don’t get this movie before five, there is a 99.9% chance I will be out of a job by the end of the day.” It was more like 100%, but this way, it made Chrisjen seem a little more reasonable than she actually was.

“You’re going to give me the long story someday soon. I have one question for you. Do you want to keep this job? Not because you’re in love with your boss, but this job, do you want it?” It was a fair question. She thought about it. Would she still be doing this if her boss wasn’t Chrisjen? Maybe she wouldn’t go quite as far. But yes, she would still try to get the movie, because she didn’t want to lose this job. She wanted to finish out her year and do it well.

“I do.”

“Alright. Give me an hour or two.” Bobbie wanted to jump into her phone and hug the living daylights out of her. Naomi, who had been least happy with her job at Runway, was saving her job with time to spare.

“Can you upload it immediately into Chrisjen’s cloud? I’ll give you the password.”

“I got into her cloud the moment you started working for her.” She pulled away from her phone and looked at it. She had done what now? That was going to be an interesting conversation for later. Mostly because she assumed Chrisjen had another one and she knew Naomi would have gotten in that one too. But for now she was just happy.

“I love you. You’re the best.”

“I know.” Naomi hung up and Bobbie did a ridiculous little dance on the roof of the Mao-Kwikowski building. She felt like shouting and celebrating. She was keeping her job. She couldn’t wait to see Chrisjen’s face. She knew the woman was gearing up to fire her. There was no way she was expecting her to get it. She would be so surprised. It wouldn’t mend what had happened, but she’d get to keep her job and show Chrisjen once again what she made of.

She was smiling when she returned to the office, humming to herself as she worked. It took her moment to realize that Drummer was staring at her. “You didn’t.”

“I did or I will have in an hour or two. You helped actually, making me remember that I have a friend who can hack, but like properly hack.” Or whatever the word was that they used in this decade. Drummer looked at her a little incredulously.

“You have a friend who can steal a predicted blockbuster in two hours?” she asked slowly. When she said it like that, it sounded really impressive which Naomi was. Bobbie nodded with a wide grin on her face. She definitely had a friend like that and a friend who was willing to do something very illegal to make sure she kept her job. “Interesting friend.”

“She is. I’ll introduce you sometime.” It was out before she thought about it, but when she did think about it, she could see Drummer and Naomi getting along. They were very different, but it could be an interesting friendship. Or relationship. She shook her head. The happiness of being able to do Chrisjen’s impossible task was getting to her.

An hour and 21 minutes later, she received a text. ‘It’s on the cloud. I took the liberty of putting a copy on my external hard-drive. You owe me that story and a movie night.’ Bobbie smiled. A movie night with a film the rest of the world wasn’t going to see for another month sounded great. She texted back that she would see her this Saturday and that she was the best friend someone could have. She logged into Chrisjen’s cloud and there it was. Wonder Woman 1984. She dropped it into Kiki’s folder and sent of a text to Kiki’s nanny.

Leaning back, she breathed slowly. She had done it. Well, Naomi had and she would be forever grateful, but she had done it. She would get to keep her job. She was going to stay, not be blacklisted in the States. And she was going to be around Chrisjen longer, who was definitely dating and probably straight, but it didn’t matter because being around her, she felt better, like she could do more, achieve more.

At five minutes to five she walked into Chrisjen’s office with the tea she liked late in the afternoon. She put it on her desk right on the papers she was reading. Chrisjen looked at it and then at Bobbie over the rim of her glasses. “Have you packed your desk yet?”

“Why would I do that?” she asked innocently. Chrisjen narrowed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, gesturing towards her desk.

“It’s nearly five and I don’t see the movie anywhere.” Bobbie smiled. It felt strangely good to get one over on Chrisjen even the stakes were her job.

“It’s on your cloud. I told Kiki’s nanny how to access it and she told me that your granddaughter is very excited to watch it. It’s in Kiki’s folder, in case you wanted to watch it yourself.” She couldn’t picture Chrisjen curling up for movie night, but it was nice to feel this confident, to know she had beaten Chrisjen’s impossible game. Her boss for her part looked speechless. Speechless, but not annoyed. She actually looked impressed. “If that was all?”

“It was. Fuck off.” Bobbie grinned and Chrisjen raised an eyebrow, but the corner of her mouth was curled up. She had done this and she had done it right. Bobbie wanted to pump her fist again, but ended up doing it just in her mind. Working here had been a rollercoaster of really lows and incredibly highs and this, well, no amount of alcohol or drugs could beat this. She felt light and happy and she probably looking annoying pleased with herself.

“I’ve never heard Chrisjen fail to come up with words. Well done.” Even Drummer was impressed. Now she knew she had done a good job. She shot off a quick text to Cotyar telling him she wasn’t fired and if he wanted to watch the new Wonder Woman before it was in the cinema, she would happily have him over for movie night.

* * *

Nothing could get her down from that good mood the next day. Not the rain that seemed to come down endlessly in thick sheets or the wet foot she got when she accidentally stepped in a puddle that was deeper than she thought. She didn’t care that she had to wait for twenty minutes at a designer’s to get some silk tops. It didn’t even matter to her that the Book was really late. It was a Friday, and yes Chrisjen was bound to still contact her during the weekend, but it didn’t matter.

She smiled to the guy delivering the Book who apologized profusely. Bobbie just told him to have a good weekend and packed her bag. She just felt happy, making polite conversation with her driver about his weekend plans. She also discovered that like her, he preferred rugby over American football, so that provided ample material to talk about their favorite players and tries. If she was going to be doing this for next few months, it was good to be friendly with him. It would make it a lot less awkward to spend the better part of an hour together every weeknight.

This time when she unlocked Chrisjen’s townhouse, she knew exactly what to do. She had asked Drummer for specific instructions yesterday and Chrisjen hadn’t been annoyed this morning, so she must have done it right. The dry cleaning went in the hall closet and the Book went on the table with the gold ornament, being a little statue of Shiva. There was also a picture of Charanpal and Kiki hanging over table.

“Bobbie?” Chrisjen’s voice floated from down the hall. Uh oh. Had she screwed something up today? She didn’t think so. Drummer would have let her know in no uncertain terms. She stared at the door that was ajar at the end of the hallway. Maybe it hadn’t been real. Maybe being in this quiet house where she knew Chrisjen was caused her to imagine that she was calling out her name. “Get in here.”

Okay that was definitely real and very similar to the start of some of her more elaborate fantasies where Chrisjen called her into her office and said she needed her and it ended up in a lot of sex, spectacular sex. The Chrisjen in her head was really good, she had to be with those fingers. Now, however, was the worst time to get turned on, so she cleared her throat and walked to the door where she thought Chrisjen was and pushed it open.

Chrisjen’s home office was the opposite of her work office. There it was all white walls and big windows, lots of light colors. But here, it was dark wood and a wall to wall bookcase completely full of books. The desk looked like an antique and the Persian carpet seemed soft. It was cozy, homely. Chrisjen was on a little sofa, feet tucked under a pillow, a no doubt ridiculously expensive throw wrapped around her shoulder. She held out her hand expectantly and Bobbie handed her the Book which Chrisjen threw somewhere near her feet.

“Why did you come up the stairs? You cannot be that fucking stupid.” That had been shockingly to the point and Bobbie hadn’t been ready for it. Chrisjen never wanted explanations for stupidity. She just made it known they had fucked up in the most unsubtle way possible.

“I’m not. I didn’t know where to put the Book and I didn’t want to screw up. Kiki was up and –”

“You talked to my granddaughter?” Chrisjen sat up a little straighter and Bobbie swallowed. Her son and her granddaughter, two things that were off-limit and a very private. But Chrisjen had asked why she had gone upstairs and she wasn’t going to lie.

“She talked to me. I talked back. She seems like a great kid. She told me she had seen a lady with dark eyes take it upstairs. I thought she meant Drummer. It was my mistake. I should have known I wasn’t supposed to go upstairs. I’m sorry.” She hadn’t planned on saying it, but she felt relieved now that she had. Being able to do Chrisjen’s impossible task was great, but it wasn’t the same as saying that she regretted she had made that mistake and seen the argument, though she wasn’t adding that last part. No need to drag up bad memories. Chrisjen’s expression softened.

“You should have known. But I accept your apology.” Bobbie felt herself smile and nearly forgot this was the terrible dragon lady she was talking to. It was almost a civilized conversation between two people. Chrisjen tilted her head and ran a hand through her long hair as she scrutinized Bobbie. “Why do you want this job so badly?”

“I didn’t, at first. I hated it and it’s still not the most inspiring work, but I almost never wake up not wanting to go to work. It has changed me and I think for the better. You make me want to do better.” Oh. Oh damn, she hadn’t meant to say that. That might have been a tad too much. Who told their boss that they made them want to do better? It was true, but it was kind of a lot to just casually say. Chrisjen’s expression was unreadable, but it wasn’t angry or shocked, so that was good, Bobbie assumed.

Chrisjen pulled the throw tighter around her shoulders and reached for the Book at her feet. “I will see you tomorrow. Now fuck off.”

“See you tomorrow.” Chrisjen had already grabbed her reading glasses and opened the Book, so she probably missed the way Bobbie smiled or couldn’t keep the lightness she felt out of her step as she left her home office. She debated telling Cotyar or Drummer, or even her friends, about the fact that Chrisjen had called her in and that had actually been pleasant and almost normal. But no. This was something she wanted to keep for herself.

* * *

The next few weeks went by without any disasters, thank god. Things were back to normal. Though it wasn’t quite normal. Bobbie still had to run all over New York, call dozens of people a day and get Chrisjen her all-important tea. But something had changed. Chrisjen was kinder, more polite, like she wasn’t just giving orders, but as if she were asking Bobbie to do it. Of course, she didn’t say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, but it was softer somehow.

To the point where Cotyar and Drummer had asked why Chrisjen was being so nice, even though she still cursed and had no problem mentioned she had ‘taken her goddamn time’ whenever something was even a little bit late. And honestly, Bobbie didn’t know either. Other than that conversation in Chrisjen’s study, nothing out of the ordinary had happened. She hadn’t called her in again when delivering the Book, hadn’t asked any personal questions.

She hadn’t told either of them about that conversation though, not even after Cotyar had gotten her very tipsy in hopes of Bobbie spilling some grand secret, but Bobbie had managed to keep that guarded. He already teased her enough about her crush without him knowing that Chrisjen had asked for an explanation of her fuck up and had accepted her apology.

Her other friends had been the exact opposite, not teasing about what she felt for Chrisjen. They listened to her talk about her work and pretended not to notice when she said a little too much about what Chrisjen had been wearing. They had chosen the way of letting Bobbie decide when she wanted to talk about it outright which suited her just fine. It was difficult enough to work for the woman she had a crush on without her friends getting her down.

“What’s this?” she asked when she returned from a coffee run and an envelope was on her desk with her name on it in beautiful calligraphy. Drummer shrugged, even though she had to have been here when it was placed there. With a frown Bobbie opened it to find an invitation on thick paper with gold decorations. It was for the annual gala that Runway held every year. All the big stars attended. Bobbie had dealt with the guest list a month ago which had been a logistical nightmare. “Okay, seriously, what is this?”

“Her first assistant usually attends the gala, but other than some preparations beforehand, I’m not really needed. She knows all of the guests’ names and who they are sleeping with, even the one the press don’t know about. So the assistant attends as a guest. I got my invitation last week. This year she apparently decided to include you as well.” Drummer didn’t sound bitter. She just sounded surprised, but not as surprised as Bobbie was.

Chrisjen had decided to invite her to the annual gala? Sure she had to work some before it kicked off, but clearly that could be done by one person. She stared at the invitation in her hand. She hadn’t known fashion or read Runway before she worked here, but she knew about the gala. It flooded social media each year and now she was going to be there. Because Chrisjen wanted her there.

“You’re going to have find a dress.”

“Oh god. I’ve never worn a gown before.”

“I didn’t think so. Cotyar already told me he’d help you. He’s probably running through all the gowns in the Closet in his mind right now. He loves this year’s theme.” Bobbie looked back at the invitation. ‘Unexpected: the modern woman’. Yeah he would love that theme, but it didn’t give Bobbie’s any ideas at all. She still mostly wore what he had picked out for her though she was learning to combine pieces herself and had even bought a few things that had met Cotyar’s approval.

There was downside to this whole thing. The date. It was Alex’ birthday and for once he was going to celebrate it properly. She had already bought a gift and everything. But she couldn’t skip this. This was Runway’s big annual thing and Chrisjen wanted her there. Even if she had an option to say ‘no’, which she doubted, she didn’t want to decline. She wanted to go. She’d call him during her lunch to tell him. It’s not like any of the parties her friends held ever stopped before the early hours of the morning.

She sat down at her desk and stared at the invitation. She was going to be surrounded by a ridiculous amount of famous people at one of the biggest fashion events outside of the Fashion weeks. She felt a little like she was going to be an imposter. She had only worked here for a few months and had been wearing clothes that the people of Runway found acceptable even less time. Being at an event like that, she didn’t belong there. It wasn’t her world.

Or was it? Chrisjen wanted her there. Maybe she had integrated more into this whole thing more than she had thought. She put the invitation at the corner of her desk where she kept catching glimpses of it while she worked. She had never gotten an invitation that fancy before. It was hard to believe that Chrisjen would actually take the time to have invitations made for her assistants without having her assistants do it. But Bobbie hadn’t ordered one for Drummer or herself and she had ordered all of them. It was oddly thoughtful of Chrisjen.

Later that day when Chrisjen was in her office and Drummer was out, Bobbie decided to throw caution into the wind when she brought Chrisjen her tea. She was immersed in photographs of the collection the museum would put up for the Gala. 3D printed jewelry and dresses, sharp suits, shoes that barely looked like shoes. It was going to be an insane exhibition that Bobbie would now get see. She set the tea down on Chrisjen’s desk and when Chrisjen’s looked up at her, there was no backing down.

“I just wanted to thank you for the invitation.” Chrisjen threw the picture she was holding onto the desk. She ran her thumb over her other fingers as if she weren’t quite sure what to with Bobbie’s gratitude, but there was none of that in her face or her voice.

“I need you there.”

“No, you don’t,” Bobbie said before she could think about it. Chrisjen’s eyes widened and Bobbie was afraid she had spoken out of turn. No, she knew she had done that. She was afraid Chrisjen wasn’t going to accept it. Chrisjen took a sip of her tea, leaving Bobbie hanging for a moment. She took her time setting the cup back down.

“This event is the biggest yearly event Runway does. I want you there to see what we achieve.” Bobbie was left speechless. Chrisjen had invited her to experience another side of Runway. It wasn’t just a ‘I’m going to be extravagant and bring two assistants’. She really wanted Bobbie there to learn something. “You said I made you want to do better. I want show you what it can mean to do better.”

Bobbie shifted a little uncomfortably. The way Chrisjen looked at her was just so intense and piercing, like she could see right inside her and see all the feelings stirring there. She hoped she couldn’t, but she knew Chrisjen was excellent at reading people and knowing their secrets. Maybe her second assistant wasn’t important enough to look into that closely. “Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Bobbie felt like she was beaming at her. Ridiculous. Chrisjen took another sip of her tea and then raised her eyebrows when Bobbie didn’t leave. “Are you waiting for something?”

“For you to tell me to fuck off,” Bobbie said with a grin. It was a rude sign-off, but she had come to like it. The way Chrisjen said the word ‘fuck’ was art and she wanted to hear it more. Chrisjen smiled at her for a brief moment before she forced herself to hide it, but Bobbie had caught it anyway and she needed to see that smile more often. It changed Chrisjen’s face, lit it up. And again Bobbie thought it made her look more than beautiful.

“Fuck off, Bobbie,” Chrisjen said with a jerk of her chin. Bobbie left her office with a huge grin on her face. She was going to Runway’s gala, Chrisjen was humoring her. Add that to the fact that she hadn’t seen or heard from Iturbi in weeks, not at Runway or on any gossip sites and she just felt golden. Not that she thought it would mean she had chance with Chrisjen. It just meant she didn’t have to watch the woman she had feelings for dating someone else. And she couldn’t wait to attend that event either.


	6. Chapter 6

The date of the gala approached faster than she would have thought. Alex was understandably a little disappointed that she would be a little late (or a lot late) to his party, but as someone who had a job that meant he was working through most holidays and a lot of parties, he understood, especially now that actually was going to be the head chef at the gastrobar. She knew one of his favorite country artists was attending and had promised that she would try to get an autograph for him. That had cheered him up immensely and made him slightly jealous of the fact that she was attending.

The same went for Naomi and Amos. They didn’t care at all about the fashion or the exhibition, but they knew who attended that event and they both had people they would have liked to meet. Bobbie pointed out that she was still just a lowly assistant and that she probably wouldn’t even meet most of them, but it didn’t matter. Just being in the same place was impressive. They both pretended to be above or beyond the whole pop culture thing, but everybody had their idols.

Bobbie found herself waiting a bit nervously in one of the halls of the museum. She had gone through a back entrance and been led to a hallway, without really knowing with what to do. The museum took care of the exhibition, another company did the decorations and yet another did the catering. There was so much happening and Bobbie couldn’t help in any way, except wait, her phone in her hand, pacing the length of the hallway.

“Nice dress. Did Cotyar pick it out?” Bobbie ran her hands down the front of her dress. The cleavage was lower than she would have wanted it even though it was far from scandalous and it was very flowy. But the color was a steel grey and it had metal elements around her waist and on her shoulders that almost made it seem like an armor. Cotyar had paired it was metal cuffs and a metal necklace. She supposed it was a tough as a gown could be and even she had to admit she looked badass.

“He did, but –” Bobbie turned around to face Drummer and immediately lost her train of thought when she saw what her colleague was wearing. Pinstripes, fitted, a blouse so white it hurt her eyes, a loosely tied bow. A suit. She was wearing a suit, for fuck’s sake. Cotyar had only shown her dresses. “We are allowed to wear a suit? What the fuck? I’m gonna murder him.”

“This isn’t a suit, it’s a vintage YSL tuxedo. And if Cotyar put you in a dress, there was probably a reason for that.” Yeah, the reason was he liked seeing her uncomfortable. Just seeing her try to figure out how to wear the dress properly had given him far too much joy, especially when he had told her without ceremony that ‘one does not wear a bra with that, Red’. If the guy hadn’t saved her ass with his makeover, she would have shoved him through a mirror. “You look good. He knew what he was doing.”

“Thanks. You look fantastic.” She really did. She was used to not seeing Drummer in color. Black, grey and neutrals were her comfort zone and she hadn’t veered from that, but seeing her in a tuxedo with a dramatic red lip, she looked amazing, beautiful. And she really wished she was wearing a suit as well. She felt so much more comfortable in pants as opposed to this flowy, but beautiful dress. Oh well, she’d just have to deal with wearing a few thousand dollar dress for an evening.

“Well, come on, best not keep her waiting.” Drummer walked to a door that said private that led to a staircase and suddenly she found herself in a private part of the museum with offices. Chrisjen was here? It looked so mundane.

“They always transform a part for makeup retouching and changing into new outfits,” Drummer explained. When they walked past cubicles into a back section, it suddenly made sense. Mirrors had been put up, couches placed. It was almost cozy. But she didn’t see Chrisjen. And then she spotted another door that said private. That must be where she was, getting put into the dress that Joe Miller had designed for her. Bobbie had seen the sketches for that and it had looked so much better, but it was hard to imagine what the finished product would look like.

“So what do we do?” She had expected there to be some work, but so far she hadn’t been asked to do anything. And there were no people here, no ringing phones to be taken care of. It was actually nice and calm.

“We wait and then we go to the Gala.”

“That’s it?”

“Chrisjen might think of a few things to do during or after the weekend and let us know immediately, but yes, other than that. That’s it. Enjoy it all, I suppose.” So really, Chrisjen didn’t need any assistants to be present and now she had two. Right. Okay. The door marked private opened and a makeup artist and hairstylist left, looking a little worse for wear than they probably had before they went into that room. Chrisjen could have that effect on people.

“Bobbie.” Chrisjen’s voice floated out into the hallway. Drummer just gave her a flat stare.

She was not prepared for what she saw when she entered the private area. Chrisjen was already in her gown, mostly, but she was holding it up against her body, the corset still unlaced. Oh no. She had a very distinct feeling that was going to be her job, a job she wasn’t qualified for and also hadn’t prepared for one little bit.

“Lace me up. Just remember it was molded for my body, so don’t treat me like I’m Scarlett fucking O’Hara.” Bobbie shook her head. She had personally made and confirmed the appointments for the measurements and the fittings. This, however, had not been in any schedule and she almost wished it had been, so she could have prepared herself for seeing her boss and the woman she had thought about so often half-dressed.

Her fingers trembled when she reached out for the corset. She curled them into fists, forcing herself not to show any outward sign of the effect her boss was having on her. She could do this. She could. All she needed to do was avoid touching her, avoid looking too long at the lacy edge of Chrisjen’s underwear or at the smooth expanse of her back or the dip of her spine. It was about as easy as climbing Mount Everest. She’d be fine.

So of course, she immediately brushed against Chrisjen’s skin when she took hold of the laces. Her skin was impossibly soft and warm and Bobbie swore she heard Chrisjen inhale a little sharper than she normally did. She was fucked, completely and utterly fucked.

Bobbie tried to finish as quickly as possible, but her hands were definitely too big for this and she kept accidentally touching Chrisjen’s bare back. And Chrisjen didn’t help, not saying anything about her clumsiness, but making those barely audible sounds that Bobbie was sure were going to haunt her dreams. She had never been this close to her, so close that her breath caused Chrisjen’s perfectly pinned up hair to move.

Tying the laces up in what Bobbie hoped was a neat bow, her fingertips grazed over Chrisjen’s shoulder blades. This time, her boss stayed silent, instead she shivered, goose bumps appearing on her skin. “There, I’m done.”

“Your fingers are fucking freezing.”

“Sorry.” She looked down at her hands, at her sweaty palms. If anything, her fingers should have felt gross, not cold. Sexual frustration was a bitch and it was rearing its ugly head. Chrisjen wasn’t looking at her, she was looking at her reflection in front of the full-length mirror. The custom-made dress fit her perfectly, accentuating all her curves. It was sinful. Her entire look, with the dark make up and the pleather bustier, the way her skirt flared out from mid-thigh, it was dramatic. This gala was Chrisjen’s party and everybody was going to know it.

Suddenly Bobbie understood how her outfit tied into the theme of Unexpected. Chrisjen never wore all black, never went without jewelry and very rarely wore her hair up. And yet here she was, not a single piece of jewelry on her and no color. Even her nails were painted black. Chrisjen caught her eye in the reflection and smirked slightly. “I told you I would need you.”

Bobbie wanted to say something about how Drummer or her makeup artist or literally anyone could have done that, but she didn’t. Instead she just smiled and allowed herself to take in how good they looked together in the mirror. Even their outfits complemented each other and Bobbie made a mental note to ask Cotyar if he had done that on purpose. “You did. Good thing you invited me.”

“I know what I’m doing. Now go, fuck off.” Those words had never sounded the same after she had basically asked Chrisjen to say them to her and now they sounded downright sultry. She felt a little shaky when she left the private room and closed the door behind her. Drummer gave her an undecipherable look and Bobbie tried to put a convincing smile when she could still feel Chrisjen skin against her fingers.

“Let’s go downstairs. She’ll make her grand entrance when she’s ready.” Where all the celebrities would walk the red carpet up the stairs, Chrisjen would wait until the invited guests were there and then descend the grand staircase, Drummer had explained to her a few days ago. Chrisjen was fine with giving her guests their moment in the spotlight, but she was taking one for herself and it never failed to stun.

Drummer guided them back to the area where the guests would arrive, leading them through the exhibition which was very impressive, even to someone who still knew very little about fashion. She knew that Naomi was love the 3D printed dresses, not the dresses themselves, but the fact that something so delicate, so beautiful had been printed. It was inspiring, which was exactly what Chrisjen always wanted the exhibitions to do. Inspire.

As the guests started to trickle in, singers, actresses, rappers, models, designers, it was almost hard to keep track of the people she knew. Some wore the most extravagant outfits imaginable, others had gone a more traditional route. Cotyar, to her surprise, had shown up wearing a regular tuxedo. She had expected him to end up wearing something with a train or anything that was more inspiring than that. When she told him that, he rolled his eyes.

“Really Red, is that all you think of me?” He opened his jacket to show that the lining was made of women’s faces, famous women’s faces all of whom had been pioneers in their respective fields. She even spotted Chrisjen in there. “It’s an ode to the modern woman. If I had upstaged them all, it would have defeated the purpose.”

Time went by and it seemed like everybody had arrived, it suddenly seemed that sound of everybody talking died down. Bobbie looked up to the top of the stairs. Grand entrance was right. Chrisjen descended from a staircase that had clearly been made to do just that, make an entrance. The press that had been allowed inside all lifted their cameras as she walked, no, more glided down, a secretive little smile on her lips. Everybody watched her.

Bobbie had already seen her in the dress, but she still took her breath away. No human woman could possibly look like that. She was just so beautiful, it ought to be impossible. Bobbie knew she was biased and that her crush was thoroughly getting out of hand, but when she managed to tear her eyes away from Chrisjen, she saw that more people were staring. As they ought to. That dress and the woman in it were made to be stared at.

Chrisjen paused at the bottom of the stairs and held up her hand to quiet down the whispers. “As you all know, I’m not know for giving speeches, so once again I will keep it short. Enjoy the evening, enjoy the exhibit, don’t get too drunk and celebrate fashion, the unexpected and the modern woman.”

“Short and sweet, that’s our Chrisjen,” Cotyar said dryly and Bobbie snorted. Short maybe, but sweet? Anything but.

“That’s not what I would use to describe her.”

“Oh no, you would use ‘attractive, beautiful, hot, inappropriate to be crushing on’, wouldn’t you?” And here they had almost made it two weeks without Cotyar mentioning that. As if what had happened earlier hadn’t been a huge goddamn reminder of everything inappropriate she felt for Chrisjen. Of course, he didn’t know she had been the one to lace her into her dress and he never would, because she wasn’t going to tell him.

“Fuck you, Cotyar,” she whispered, not wanting to be overheard by some world famous singer. Cotyar simply smiled sweetly.

“You’re even copying her language.”

“Pretty sure she talked like that before she met Chrisjen,” Drummer interjected as she handed Bobbie and Cotyar a glass of champagne. Bobbie gratefully accepted it and took a sip. She didn’t really care for it, but she needed alcohol, any alcohol if she was going to be at this thing, surrounded by celebrities while a friend made fun of her crush on her boss, with her boss in the room.

“I did, yes. Just not at work.” Mostly because she had always learned to not curse in a professional environment outside of the military, but that was before she had met Chrisjen who cursed more than her army buddies combined and she did it on the phone with some of the world’s best photographers. It was really kind of hot.

Cotyar sighed and downed his glass. “You two aren’t being any fun. See you later.”

It turned out that such a massive event with stars wall to wall, it was a little intimidating. Luckily, Drummer wasn’t one for big events either, so they stayed together. Drummer had seen it all before so she was happy enough to do what Bobbie wanted. They watched as some of the ambassadors of the event taped videos for social media in the exhibit where Bobbie now realized faces of famous and not so famous women were put up behind the clothes. It was beautifully done.

Some celebrities made the time to stop and talk to them, thanking them for the great event, asking what it was like to work for Chrisjen and just making general conversation. She even managed to seek out that country singer Alex liked and got him an autograph. And a video in which he wished him a happy birthday. That ought to make up for the fact that she was missing hours of his party.

The food was ridiculously fancy, but so good and there was a lot of alcohol. Bobbie stayed mostly away from it, not wanting to accidentally make a fool of herself. Bobbie tried to take it all in. Chrisjen had wanted to show her what Runway achieved and she sort of understood it. Bobbie had thought the magazine was just fashion, just clothes and maybe it was, but it could do this, bring together some of the world’s most influential people outside of politics and it brought them together in a way where they relaxed and let go a little.

It wasn’t until a few hours later that Cotyar joined them again which gave Drummer the chance to leave for a moment. He had taken charge of the photos for the Instagram account, making it look like they had been cute or gorgeous selfies while in fact they very staged. At least they looked good. Bobbie was actually about to leave. It was amazing to be a part of this, but it was slowly turning into more drinking and partying and she had an actual party to get to. And she spotted Mao. He still made her feel uncomfortable. Even from a distance.

“Who is that with Mao?” There was a tall man talking to him, convincing fake smile, but his eyes were surveying everything, as if he were expecting danger to come from every corner.

“Sadavir Errinwright. He runs L’Uomo. It’s the male, lesser version of Runway. Chrisjen fought tooth and nail to make sure that it wouldn’t be known as Runway Men. And yes, he is as unpleasant and slippery as he looks.” Cotyar sounded just a little tipsy and tipsy Cotyar was loose lipped which could come in handy. She watched as the pair of men moved towards Chrisjen. Mao started a conversation that looked anything but pleasant while Errinwright looked smug. Oh she really didn’t like either of them.

“Good to know. And why does Mao look so pissed off?” Chrisjen was larger than life, but with them, she looked small. She didn’t know the etiquette of big events, but she knew what someone spoiling for a fight looked like and Mao had that look in his eyes. As Cotyar answered, she made sure they moved closer to the threesome. It was probable that nothing would happen, but she didn’t care for the energy that came off Mao.

“So many reasons. This event is too expensive. He thinks Runway costs too much money and Chrisjen refuses to cut down on the budget. The dress Chrisjen is wearing is designed by Joe Miller who is in a relationship with Mao’s favorite daughter, or favorite until she rebelled against dear old dad, renounced her family’s fortune and is now actively campaigning against billionaires and for higher taxes. Oh and said daughter? She’s one of the women Chrisjen decided to feature tonight. You probably send her invite. But I don’t know if she’ll show.”

Oh holy shit. She knew Chrisjen rubbed a lot of people the wrong way and she knew Mao was an asshole. Okay, that was more of an assumption. But Chrisjen had gone out of her way to make sure that she’d get under Mao’s skin tonight. “That is a lot of reasons for him to be pissed off.”

“Hmm, they despise each other and Chrisjen is using the method of death by a thousand cuts until he snaps.” Bobbie winced. That sounded like something Chrisjen would do. The closer she got to the three people, the more she noticed that Mao wasn’t sober. He wasn’t drunk, but there was enough alcohol in him to lose his normally so perfect composure. Going for his family had no doubt set him off. It was understandable, but Bobbie was on Chrisjen’s side.

“And that works?”

“I have no idea. So far it seems to be a deadlock. She is the only one who can do what she does, brings in the most revenue and she simply knows too many people. And he is the billionaire that is owns the whole company, or at least is a majority shareholder. It’s his name on the building.” They were close enough to catch parts of the conversation. Chrisjen kept her voice soft, so Bobbie couldn’t understand her, but she could understand the last part of what Mao said.

“This time you’ve crossed a line, Chrisjen.” He looked angry and as soon as he took a step closer to Chrisjen, Bobbie’s instinct took over. She didn’t expect him to hurt her or even touch her, but something in her told her that she needed to put an end to this. She needed to protect Chrisjen from whatever was about to happen. She walked forward, past Chrisjen until she knew the woman was halfway behind her shoulder.

“I’m going to have to ask you to stop what you’re doing,” she said calmly. Adrenaline was suddenly rushing though her veins. This could potentially be a career-ending move. Mao sneered at her.

“Who are you? Her bodyguard?” Good to know that even in a gown, she looked tough enough to be Chrisjen’s bodyguard. Working at a fashion magazine for months hadn’t made her lose that quality. She straightened her spine. She was taller than him, especially in heels. She was even taller than Errinwright like this, but he was smart enough to stay out of this.

“Her second assistant. Sir, this is a gala with a lot of people with smartphones and millions of followers.” She made sure to keep her voice even and not too loud. Chrisjen was behind her and staying quiet for once. God, she hoped she wasn’t glaring a hole in the back of her skull.

“So what?”

“So I’m saying that even one of them manages to capture this conversation in the background, it’s going to look like two men intimidating a woman. A woman who is working for you. Now, we all know what she is capable of, but the optics wouldn’t be good for you.” She wasn’t a bodyguard. She couldn’t physically remove him from the museum, but a guy like him, he had to care about his image. His gaze went from her face to just over her shoulder, where Chrisjen was and then back to her. He deflated some.

“This conversation isn’t over,” he snapped at Chrisjen. She had moved to stand beside Bobbie and from the corner of her eye, Bobbie could see she was wearing a wide smile that was only mildly terrifying.

“It is for now. Have a nice evening, Jules-Pierre, Sadavir,” Chrisjen said in a sweet voice as the pair walked off. Bobbie took a deep breath, unable to believe she had just done that. Oh god. She had just stood up to a billionaire who was responsible for the money that ended up in her bank account at the end of each month. What had she done? She had no problem standing up to men with a dick size problem who intimidated women, but this had not been an ordinary situation. Cotyar was watching her, completely speechless.

Chrisjen waited until Mao and Errinwright had disappeared from her sight and then looked up at Bobbie. She didn’t look angry, but maybe she was hiding it, because they were still public. She jerked her head which Bobbie interpreted as needing to follow her. Of course, Chrisjen wasn’t going to berate her in public. What was she going to have to do this time? Make George RR Martin finish the sixth A Song of Ice and Fire book before the end of the year?

She followed Chrisjen, her heart beating in her throat, to a bathroom of all places. Some women were chatting and touching up their makeup. They immediately fell silent when they saw Chrisjen. Models and actresses just frozen watching the host of this event. Chrisjen rolled her eyes. “Out!”

They scrambled out and soon they were alone in the bathroom. Chrisjen even made a point to check the stalls, before rounding on Bobbie. After hours of walking around and talking to literally everybody, she still looked practically perfect. A lock of hair had escaped from her updo and it honestly, just made her look more beautiful. “What were you thinking?”

“His body language was off. It seemed threatening.”

“And you didn’t think I could handle a fucking idiot like him?” She had fucked up. She shouldn’t have stepped in and let Chrisjen handle it by herself. What had been going through her mind? Chrisjen was a woman whose skin wasn’t white in America in high position. She knew how to deal with intimidation better than most.

“No, I did. I know you can. My instinct just took over. I had to stop him, because it wasn’t going to end well. I’m sorry.” Here she was apologizing again. All the confidence she had felt when she had approached Mao had disappeared. She really hadn’t want to fuck up again, especially not during Runway’s biggest event.

“Don’t apologize. You were right, it wouldn’t have ended well. It was going to be a minor goddamn scandal at best.” Bobbie let out a breath, a feeling of relief washing over her. So she hadn’t fucked up. Chrisjen’s expression softened as she came a little closer. “Stepping in was the right thing to do.”

“Oh thank god.” Bobbie blindly placed a hand on a sink to steady herself. She had to look away from Chrisjen. She recognized this. She was coming down from the adrenaline. She just needed to breathe and focus on something. She chose the hem of Chrisjen’s gown. She hadn’t disappointed Chrisjen. She had done the right thing. She knew that, but being around Chrisjen made her doubt herself more than ever before. The hem of Chrisjen’s gown moved closer.

“Bobbie, look at me.” Bobbie slowly raised her head. Chrisjen was well into her personal space now. Her breathing evened out looking at her. Her skin looked so soft and Bobbie knew it was. And then Chrisjen reached out and covered Bobbie’s hand with her own. It wasn’t like the time her fingers had accidentally brushed against Bobbie’s, or Bobbie clumsily touching Chrisjen’s back. This was a purposeful touch. It was calming, it was gentle and it set Bobbie’s body on fire. “Thank you.”

She didn’t know how to deal with all the input she was getting. Chrisjen’s hand was soft on her own, warmer than she had expected. Chrisjen was touching her and yet Bobbie couldn’t look away to check if it were actually happening, because Chrisjen gaze was just so captivating. And her words rang around in her head. ‘Thank you’. Chrisjen had said thank you and she meant it. It was so much at the same time and Bobbie didn’t want it to end.

“No problem,” she said, her voice sound strangely squeaky to her own ears and she hoped it was just her mind playing tricks on her. If Chrisjen noticed it, she didn’t show it. She shook her head slightly, but kept her hand where it was.

“No, you took a risk that could have had dire consequences, but you handled the situation well. So accept my gratitude.”

“I do. It means a lot.” More than she could ever say. Chrisjen smiled and gently squeezed her hand. Bobbie felt her knees go weak. How was she reduced to this by a simple touch? But it was Chrisjen’s touch and she had thought about it for so long and even if it was just their hands, it still counted. And then Chrisjen pulled her hand away and the sound of her heart beating in her ears stopped.

“Good. Now, don’t you have some birthday party to get to?” Bobbie’s mouth fell open as Chrisjen turned towards the mirror and tucked that errant lock of hair back where it belonged. When she caught Bobbie’s shocked expression, she just looked smug. “Oh yes, I can hear what happens in my front office.”

“My roommate’s,” she said weakly. She had almost forgotten about that with everything that had happened.

“Go, nothing left to see here but drunk celebrities. Fuck off.” She left Chrisjen in the bathroom, feeling like nothing was quite real. She said a quick goodbye to Cotyar and Drummer and left the museum, the cold air clearing her head a little. She had trouble trying to make sense of everything that had happened. She looked down at her hand. There wasn’t any different about it and yet she could still feel Chrisjen’s touch there. No time to think about that now. She had to get to Alex’ party. She could think about all of this later.

She was about to order an Uber, when a familiar figure approached her. James Holden. “You never told me your name, but assume from your email, it’s Bobbie?”

“It is.” It had been so long since she had sent that email, she had almost forgotten about it. She had assumed that he had been too busy or hadn’t liked her work and didn’t want to tell her. He wasn’t wearing a sweater this time, but a tuxedo that somehow didn’t succeed in making him look fancy. He looked uncomfortable wearing it. Had he been at the gala this whole time and she hadn’t seen him? She knew how many people were invited to this, but still, it seemed almost impossible.

“I’m sorry I never got back to you. I was abroad working on a story and it just kind of slipped my mind. I’m not the most organized person.” He looked apologetic enough that Bobbie knew he was telling the truth.

“That’s alright.”

“But the editor of Vanity Fair is inside. I can make it up to you by introducing you.” After everything that happened she could meet the editor of Vanity Fair? How much could fit into a single evening? She was about to walk up the stairs to meet him when she stopped herself. She had Alex’ party to get to, but he would forgive her for being even later. And then there was Chrisjen. She didn’t owe her anything. She probably didn’t care who she met to further her career. But she couldn’t do it. When she had just started this job she would have jumped at the chance, but now, it felt like taking an undeserved shortcut.

“I really wish I could, but I have to go. You can owe me. Show my work to an editor you think would like it.” It was possible she was making the worst mistake of her life, but it didn’t feel like it. Once the words had left her mouth, she felt good about it. It might not help her career any, but it felt like the right thing to do. Holden nodded.

“Deal.”

* * *

Soft hands were touching her, taking their time to caress every part of her body they could reach. It started off innocently, gently touching her cheeks, tracing her jaw, but it quickly turned into so much more, going down to brush over her collarbones. Just as they reached the tops of her breasts, a hot mouth settled against her throat, kissing, sucking and biting. Bobbie moaned and squirmed, trying to take in all the sensations.

She gasped when fingers found her nipples and circled them teasingly before squeezing. A thigh slipped between her legs, giving her enough pressure to provide some relief for the ache there. It had been so long since she had been touched like that and she needed it so much. She didn’t even care that she couldn’t see who was doing this to her.

The fingers moved lower as soft kisses were placed in the hollow of her throat and her chest. Teeth sunk into the inside of her breast and she buried her fingers in the long hair that had been lightly tickling her. She felt a smile against her skin and a moment later, breath against her nipple as the softest of touches brushed over her clit.

“Oh god,” she whispered. And then lips closed around her nipple and she forgot how to speak completely. It had never felt this good before. So incredibly good. She just let it all happen to her. The mouth that sucked on her nipples and the fingers teasing between her legs until she felt almost delirious with need.

After what felt like ages, she knew she had to be dripping wet, finally she felt kisses on her sternum, her stomach, moving down, teeth scraping over her hips, open-mouthed kisses placed on the inside of her thighs. She moved her hips, needing more. She was desperate for it.

Finally fucking finally, she felt a tongue moving over her clit and she cried out. A moment later her clit was sucked into her mouth and her eyes flew open. She looked down her body to find familiar dark eyes looking back at her. Black hair framed a face that she had seen so many times, fingers she had wanted to touch her for months were holding on to her thighs. Chrisjen.

Bobbie jerked awake and a for a moment she didn’t realize where she was and why Chrisjen wasn’t there. And then she realized. “Fuck.”

A sex dream about her boss. A dream that had felt so shockingly real. She swore she could still Chrisjen’s mouth between her legs, even though she had never been there. She groaned. Great. She had dreamed about Chrisjen before, but it had never been like that. She blamed the alcohol at Alex’s party. No, even better, she blamed that damn dress and how it had made Chrisjen look more than human. And she blamed Chrisjen for touching her. She ran her fingers over the back of her hand, where Chrisjen’s hand had been.

What had even in happened in that bathroom? Even now, the morning after, it still didn’t feel real. Like she had fallen into another universe where Chrisjen voiced her gratitude in a sincere tone and an expression on her face that Bobbie hadn’t been able to look away from. A universe where Chrisjen had touched her as if it were normal. As if she had done this before when she definitely hadn’t.

And now she was having frighteningly realistic sex dreams about her. She was sure she wouldn’t find herself in this situation if that whole thing in that bathroom hadn’t happened. That moment, it must have broken some dam in her subconscious. And now here she was, wanting Chrisjen more than ever and not just physically, even though her dream did its best to prove otherwise. She wanted her, all aspects of her. The impatient, cursing like a sailor side and the softer side she had shown last night and everything in between and beyond.

She had had crushes before on women she shouldn’t have had a crush on. This was something else. Something worse.

Rolling over, she buried her face in her pillow. Moving made her realize that she was still wet. God, that had been effective dream. She reached between her legs and found that she was wetter than she had thought. And it had only been a dream. She couldn’t even imagine what state she would be in if she ever got a chance to actually have sex with Chrisjen. Which would never happen. But apparently a girl could dream.


	7. Chapter 7

The next Monday was a new level of torture. Not that she screwed up or made a fool or herself. It was being around Chrisjen and remembering her dream, how incredibly good her mouth and hands had felt, how hard she had come when she got over the idea that she would have face Chrisjen again and touched herself. She was regretting that now. It wasn’t like she had never masturbated to the thought of Chrisjen before. She had, plenty of times. But after the gala, something had changed.

A lot had changed. She couldn’t help but smile when she saw Chrisjen now. And Chrisjen didn’t throw her coat on Bobbie’s desk anymore or she hadn’t this morning. She had handed it to Bobbie, their fingers brushing against one another. Bobbie’s breath had hitched and Chrisjen had smiled, a small smile, but Bobbie had seen it and filed it away. She had even said ‘thank you’ again, though she had been so immersed into photographs, it was probably more something subconscious, but she had said it all the same.

But she also couldn’t stop thinking about that moment in the bathroom and her dream and the way Chrisjen had looked in that dress. The feeling of wanting to protect her also kept bubbling up, even though Mao wasn’t here. He wasn’t on her calendar either, but something in her just want to make sure that Chrisjen was safe, because she simply had a feeling that Mao wasn’t done with Chrisjen and this time he wasn’t going to play nice.

She was just so overwhelmed with everything she was feeling, she just ended up confused, staring at nothing when she didn’t have anything to do, losing herself in thoughts of Chrisjen and the impossibility of ever being able to kiss her, hold her, treat her like something other than a boss. Falling for her was the stupidest thing she had ever done. And she wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

“What’s wrong with you, Red?” Cotyar asked when he caught her looking at her screensaver like it was the most interesting thing she had ever seen. She opened her mouth to reply and then remembered that Chrisjen had said she could hear what was being said in the front office. She gestured for him to follow her to the little kitchenette.

“I had a dream about her,” she said, keeping her voice low and soft. She really didn’t want Chrisjen to hear her about this.

“Who?” Bobbie gave him a ‘really?’ look and just, really? Who was she supposed to be talking about? She wasn’t playing the pronoun game. There was only one her she could be talking about. “Oh. So. I’ve had plenty of dreams about her. Some might call them nightmares.”

“This wasn’t that. Trust me, you’ve never had a dream like this about her.” At least she hoped not. She supposed she wouldn’t blame him if he had.

“Oh god, Red. Really? Your subconscious wants to have sex with her now?”

“Pretty sure my subconscious has wanted that for a long time.” About from the moment she had met Chrisjen. She couldn’t help that she had a type and that Chrisjen far surpassed that and was also just insanely attractive. “It felt so real, Cotyar. I woke up and I could still feel her.”

“Well now I’m almost jealous.” Bobbie felt her mouth drop open. He was jealous of her incredibly realistic sex dream about their boss? How did that make sense? Cotyar rolled his eyes. “Not about the fact that you dreamt you were fucking your boss.”

“It was more the other way around,” she muttered, interrupting him. Cotyar raised his finger to make a point. He even went as far to take a deep breath, but Bobbie could practically see the gears grinding in his head and the exact moment he came to the realization that asking her a question, any question about her dream would end badly.

“I’m going to ignore that. No, just the good sex dream part. This job doesn’t exactly give me the time to go out and date.” He had a point. Other than a brief mention of an ex here or there, he had never talked about dating anyone, same went from Drummer. So all three of them were single. That seemed a little ridiculous, they were all dateable, other than the impossible work schedule. Of course, Bobbie’s reason for being single was a little different than theirs.

“It sure doesn’t.”

“Oh please. You only want to date Chrisjen.”

“That’s…fair.” She had seen and met some beautiful and interesting women in passing, but when she entertained the idea of going out with them, she quickly came to one conclusion: they weren’t Chrisjen. And her crush had only got worse over time. “Look, if it helps, a hyper realistic sex dream just makes the frustration that much worse.”

“That actually does help. Look, it was just a dream, right? You can’t lose your head over a dream.” It almost made her want to tell him what had happened in the bathroom, but she just knew that he wouldn’t understand what that moment had done to her. He’d brush it off as just a touch and alright, a ‘thank you’ was special. But it didn’t mean anything from Chrisjen’s part. She was just grateful. At least that was what she expected him to say. She sighed.

“You’re right. I can’t.” But she had anyway.

* * *

It had been a long week. A really long one and nothing special had happened, other than the Book being really late a few times. Every time she had stepped into Chrisjen house, she had hoped she would call her into her study or to any place really. She just wanted to spend time with Chrisjen alone, any amount of time. But Chrisjen hadn’t called her into her home office, nor had she held her hand again. It had just been a normal week where Chrisjen had been a little nicer to Bobbie than before. Not enough to make it seem suspicious to anyone but Drummer, but enough that Bobbie noticed and clung to it.

If Chrisjen had seen that Bobbie behavior had changed, she hadn’t mentioned it. Bobbie hoped she still came across as normal, but the funny looks she had received Drummer had told her that she was acting different from before. By the end of the week, she had gotten used to feeling her heartbeat speed up when she saw or hear Chrisjen speak. It still gave her that little rush, but it didn’t make her act like a lovesick teenager anymore. Which was for the best because this Saturday she was going to introduce her friends to Drummer for the first time and she didn’t need any extra awkwardness.

Amos’ friend had an exhibition with plants and about plants. Bobbie wasn’t entirely sure. But they had all been invited and she in turn had asked if Drummer wanted to go. She didn’t strike her as the type of woman who liked plants, but it seemed like a good neutral place to introduce her to her friends where Drummer could leave easily if she decided she hated them.

Bobbie couldn’t really find any motivation to go, so it was good that she had to go for Drummer and her friends or she would have bailed at a time where any distraction from her own thoughts was a good distraction. And Drummer could use it as well. She had told Bobbie a little more about her friend in the hospital, some guy named Ashford (which Bobbie assumed was his last name). He had practically raised Drummer in her late teens. They’d had a falling out, but just as they were starting to mend their relationship, he had fallen ill and had only gotten worse. Having a night out, away from it all would do her good.

“So he does plants?” Drummer asked, sounding more than a little incredulously.

“I guess? Amos isn’t the best to have explain things like art. Cars and anything mechanic, spend a few hours in his shop and you’ll know everything there is to know, but art, not his wheelhouse.”

“Then why is he friends with this guy?”

“I don’t know. Amos likes you or he doesn’t. I don’t know what the deciding factor is.” Bobbie had been new one in that group. Alex, Naomi and Amos had already been friends. She just knew Alex and then they had become roommates and suddenly she was a part of their group and Amos had simply liked her and that was it. They were friends. Drummer stayed quiet as they approached the door to the gallery. It wasn’t any upscale gallery like they had had to visit for their job, picking up art for photoshoots. It was cute, small and it looked inviting.

As they walked in, Bobbie was immediately hit with the smell of dirt and greenery, but it wasn’t overwhelming. It smelled like a newly laid garden and she missed that, having lived in an apartment ever since her family had migrated to America.

“This is something else,” Drummer said, looking around to take in everything that was there. There was green everywhere and it was beautiful. Some almost looked like sculptures, humans made out of plants, others were a mixture of light and green in a way that seemed organic. Photographs lined the walls and there was an entire wall of plants and flowers that Bobbie had never seen before in her life.

“It certainly is.” It was relaxing and made her feel like she wasn’t in the middle of a metropolitan city. It was like a little haven of green and seemingly fresh air. The lack of motivation to be here disappeared. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it before.”

“This makes me want to buy plants,” Drummer said and it almost sounded like she was annoyed by that. She wasn’t big on plants. Watering the few around the office was something she left to Bobbie, saying the only plant she owned was a cactus, because it was impossible to kill that, but she looked impressed as she looked around. Bobbie smiled when she saw her friends and walked towards them with Drummer.

“Hey! Alright, everybody this is Drummer. Drummer, this is Alex, Amos and Naomi.” They all made their introductions. It was the first time her world of a strange collection of friends that drank craft beers met her world of thousand dollar garments and caring about a belt buckle. Bobbie had learned how to be a part of both of them and it seemed that they mixed well outside of her as well. She had been a little nervous about it, but it went swimmingly.

“You must be the hacker that saved her ass,” Drummer said when she shook Naomi’s hand. Naomi looked surprised and the corner of Drummer’s mouth curled up.

“I am. How could you tell?”

“Because they don’t look like they could steal a movie from production company after the Sony hack of 2014. You do.” Bobbie was almost sure that she wasn’t imagining the spark she saw between them. She had thought the two of them could get along, but there was something between them. Naomi usually kept her guard up, but now she smiled widely at the fact that Drummer had picked her out as the person with the skills to basically steal the new Wonder Woman movie.

“Thanks. I think.”

“I meant it as a compliment.”

“Well, good.” The two of them got wrapped up into a conversation and sort of floated away to watch the art and talk.

“Did… did you just set them up?” Alex asked as he watched the pair of them.

“I hadn’t planned on it. I had thought about it, but they’re both too stubborn to be set up.” Besides she didn’t like being set up so she made a point of not doing it to her friends either, unless it was Alex. He just had a sort of puppy quality to him with that southern accent that she didn’t mind helping him out every now and then. But Naomi? She wouldn’t dream of trying to find a date for her. And she thought Drummer might actually kill her if she did. But here she was, watching her two friends talk as if they had known each other for ages, standing closer than two recently introduced people should.

“The two of them as a couple would be a little scary, not going to lie.” Bobbie looked at them and had to agree. Naomi was amazing, but so strong and so set on doing what she wanted to do because she believed it was right and Drummer, well she had worked for Chrisjen for about two years, had survived in an impossibly hard environment and judging from the few glimpses she had given Bobbie about her life, she had been through it. She was tough and not to be messed with.

“Ah, you’re just jealous I brought someone from Runway and she isn’t interested in you,” Bobbie teased. Alex pretended to be offended, but when Amos grinned like an idiot, he gave up the pretense.

“Only a little.” After that Amos drifted away to talk to the guy responsible for all of this, Praxidike or Prax. Bobbie watched them for a moment, not quite understanding how a guy that made art of and with plants had gotten close to a guy like Amos whose two mastered languages were English and mechanics. But Amos got a protective air about him as he talked to Prax. He never gave away any of his emotions, even now, but he cared about this guy. It was kind of sweet to see.

Alex had seen somebody he had recognized as a fellow chef and wanted to discuss the edible plants section and left Bobbie to take a look around the gallery. She didn’t mind. She wasn’t an artsy type of person, not at all, but she liked the green and the plants and how it gave her sense of familiarity and other-worldliness at the same time. She found herself drawn to the photographs the most because it was like a moment frozen in time.

She was looking at a photograph of a plant she didn’t know, but the description said that its flower only bloomed for a short amount of time and when it did, it was very fragile, but the plant itself was very sturdy, but it needed to be treated right to bloom. In the picture, it was blossoming, not quite there yet and it had a delicate golden sheen to it, just showing hints of ink black pestles. It was stunning and reminded of exactly one person. Even now, Chrisjen was with her, lingering in the back of her mind.

She was still looking it, tilting her head and picturing it on the wall of Chrisjen’s office or even at home, when out of the corner of her eye she spotted a familiar figure, slightly slouched, his hair still unruly curls, looking at a sculpture of a person made out of plants. Out of all the people she had envisioned here, he wasn’t one of them. “Holden? What are you doing here?”

He looked up, not at all surprised to see her. He must have seen her before she had spotted him and decided not to intrude. He put on awkward, but disarming smile. “Bobbie. This a coincidence. I needed to get out if I’m being honest. I’m either away chasing a story or I’m stuck inside writing. This seemed like a good low-key event to go to and actually interact with people. And it’s just around the corner.”

“And that was the reason you came, isn’t it?” He seemed like a nice enough guy, but not the type to crawl out of basically self-imposed isolation to watch an art installation about plants. He had the decency to look mildly guilty.

“It was. But this is good. I can tell you in person I sent your work to some people and Huffington Post is very interested. They’re afraid to offer you something while you’re working for Chrisjen Avasarala though. They don’t want to get on her bad side.” Ah, yes, the terrifying power of a small woman running a fashion empire who somehow held enough influence to scare people who didn’t work for her or even near her. It was alright, she had gotten used to it by now.

“That’s understandable.”

“But once you finish your year with her, they would love to talk to you.” Bobbie smiled, almost unable to believe that this was an indirect offer for a job interview at a place where she would get to do what she wanted to do. She didn’t feel the excitement she expected to feel. This was what she wanted, had wanted for so long, but now it came with the realization that after she had finished her year at Runway, she would have to leave Chrisjen. It had been something she had looked forward to, because it would be the only way to get rid of her crush, but she had gone beyond those feelings now. She had reached the point of not wanting to leave it. And what a great moment and place to figure that out.

“Thank you. That’s great. Kind of hard to believe, but great.” She hoped she sounded convincing. She really did think it was great, she was just dealing with some mixed emotions right now.

“You’ve got promise as a writer.” He looked away for a moment and then turned his attention back to Bobbie, looking even more awkward than before. God, she hoped he wasn’t going to ask her out. She didn’t think so, but she really hoped not. “Now, I have a question for you. The woman with the mohawk, she’s your friend?”

Bobbie breathed a sigh of relief. Oh good, he wasn’t interested in her. And he had apparently been in here long enough to know that she knew Naomi. She looked at her friends and saw Naomi and Drummer in deep conversation, discussing a concrete wall where plants had broken through it. “She is.”

“Do you think I’ve got a chance with her?” Normally Bobbie would have given him a maybe. She had a hard time trying to pin down what kind of people Naomi dated. Her ex was an asshole according to everyone, including Naomi, and she had talked about some people she had dated and they had all been wildly different. Holden wasn’t outside the realm of possibilities, but she watched Drummer say something and Naomi laughed, placing a hand on Drummer’s arm and she knew, he didn’t have chance. Not right now.

“I think you may have just missed it.”

“Too bad. She seems interesting. Oh well. See you later.” She gave him a little awkward wave as he walked away to look at another piece. Bobbie returned her attention to the photograph that reminded her of Chrisjen. It really was beautiful. Making up her mind, she spun around and walked towards Amos and Prax, determined to ask him what he would want for it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this definitely diverges from the DWP storyline and I absolutely 'borrowed' this from The Good Fight, because I wanted some drama.
> 
> I'm also going on a short holiday, so I won't be able to update until August 1st probably.

It was the next Wednesday when Bobbie went into work with a gift-wrapped package in her bag. She wasn’t even sure if she was going to give to Chrisjen. It seemed ridiculous to give her boss a gift on her birthday, especially when Drummer had said that Chrisjen never made it a thing, but she was bringing it anyway. Maybe there would be a moment where it would come up organically and it would seem completely normal to hand her a gift. She doubted it. It would look nice in her bedroom as well, if worse came to worse and she chickened out.

Not surprisingly there was a bigger stack of mail than usual waiting for it. She pulled out everything that could be birthday related or needed to be seen by Chrisjen and put it on her desk, while saving the rest to look at after Chrisjen had arrived. There were flowers as well that she made sure to put in nice vases and placed them strategically around Chrisjen’s office.

Chrisjen came out of the elevator as usual, firing off orders at a rapid pace and Bobbie took them down on her phone, adding who she would have to call or translating it into something that sounded a little less offensive. She accepted Chrisjen’s coat as it was handed to her and put in the closet before quickly joining Chrisjen in her office, because apparently today she wanted more than she normally did. She looked at the flowers as if she hated all of them.

Clearly she was not a birthday person, not that Bobbie had thought she was. It was good thing she had kept her present in her bag then. She did look amazing in her wine-colored dress, diamonds on her neck. It fit her so well, bringing out her curves. It was a little distracting. “And if anybody from Mao-Kwikowski or from any of our rivals even dares to come in here to wish me a happy fucking birthday, tell them to fuck off.”

Bobbie nodded and wrote it down as Chrisjen started pulling beautiful cards out of pre-opened envelopes. Chrisjen was famous enough to get her weekly amount of death threats, so her mail was pre-opened. Most of the cards were put into a pile that Bobbie knew was going to be discarded later. “And call Arjun and tell him that ‘no, for the thousandth time don’t want have to a private celebration at home’. He should know that by now.”

Chrisjen picked up an envelope without a stamp or an address on it. It just had her name neatly written on it. Something about it was different. Something that distracted Bobbie enough that she forgot to take down any notes as Chrisjen continued to talk. It wasn’t right. She had put down Chrisjen’s mail dozens of times and something was wrong. Chrisjen tore into the envelope and pulled out a letter. And then it clicked. It hadn’t been opened yet. It hadn’t been checked.

Bobbie realized it only a moment before Chrisjen opened the letter. She tried to pull Chrisjen away, the phone she had been holding falling to the floor, and put herself in between her boss and the letter. But she had been too late. White powder fell out of the letter onto Chrisjen’s lap and partly onto Bobbie’s hand. A heavy silence settled into the room. Shit. This wasn’t good. This was very, very bad.

“Worst fucking birthday ever,” Chrisjen muttered as she carefully placed the letter on her desk, unable to hide that her hands were shaking. ‘May this birthday be your last one. Ricin should take care of that’ the letter said. It least it was to the point. Bobbie knew she couldn’t move too much, with the powder on her hand. She couldn’t risk it getting distributed into the air and she knew that any symptoms would take hours to appear at least. And that was where her knowledge of this toxin stopped.

“Camina. I need you to close the doors to this office, call 911 and tell them that we have a possible case of powdered ricin, they’ll need to send HAZMAT. And then evacuate the fucking floor,” Chrisjen called out. Drummer appeared a moment later, her eyes wider than Bobbie had ever seen them. She took one look at Chrisjen and the powder on her lap and Bobbie who stood beside her, holding her hand steady with the rest of the contents of letter balancing on the back of her hand and immediately jumped into action, closing the doors to Chrisjen’s office. They were glass and didn’t truly shut due to a small gap between the doors, but it would help some.

“And call facilities to shut down the air circulation system,” Bobbie said just before Drummer shut the second door. She nodded and started calling, looking a little frazzled. Bobbie tried to keep her breathing shallow as outside everybody was starting to come out of their office and make their way to the elevators. She couldn’t believe she was here. She should have caught it. She should have known something was wrong with that envelope before she placed it on Chrisjen’s desk.

“I’m sorry,” she said, Chrisjen turned her head and looked up at her with a frown.

“You cannot possibly think this is your fault.”

“The envelope wasn’t opened. I should have kept it behind, have it checked before I placed it on your desk.” She had seen it amongst the mail and she hadn’t even realized that something was wrong with it until it was too late. And now here she stood. If this was actually ricin, they could both die, since there was no know antidote, as far as she was aware. She should have been able to prevent this. For herself and for Chrisjen. Shit. 

“This is the second time you’ve tried to protect me when that isn’t your job. The first time, it could have cost you your career at most. Now, it could cost you your life. If you think I’m blaming you for this, you’re fucking insane.” Even with the cursing, it sounded close to comforting, as if she wanted to make sure that Bobbie wasn’t going to lose her mind while they were stuck waiting for HAZMAT to show up.

“I blame me for this.”

“Don’t. We’re going to be here for a while and I don’t feel like spending that time telling you that you couldn’t have stopped this.”

“How do you want to –” Bobbie trailed off when Cotyar appeared outside of the office, wearing a facemask and gloves, holding up something.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Chrisjen voiced Bobbie’s thoughts perfectly when Cotyar pushed the door open and walked in. There was a toxin in here. Sure he had a mask, but it was just cloth. It probably didn’t protect him enough if there were any particles floating about in the office. And then she realized he was holding masks as well. He had probably gone and collected them from the Closet. There had been a photoshoot a few weeks ago about global street styles adapted to NYC. Custom-made masks had been ordered for the Tokio portion.

“Offering you two a little protection. Don’t worry, I’ll get out of here soon.” He moved behind Bobbie who crouched a little, so he could get the mask over her head and tie the elastic. It sat comfortably on her face, as far as a face mask that had to protect you from a deadly toxin could be comfortable. He moved onto Chrisjen next who looked none too pleased. It was hard to tell whether that was because of the mask, the ricin or Cotyar risking his life to do this, but if Bobbie had to guess, she would say that it was a combination of all three.

“You’re a goddamn idiot,” she hissed right before he put the mask over her face. Okay, the latter then. He carefully tied the mask and then stepped back, making sure not to jostle either of them.

“I know and you’re welcome.” He turned around when he got to the door, pointing at them with a gloved finger. “Don’t die, either of you.”

Bobbie tried to put on a reassuring smile before realizing that he couldn’t see it anyway. She chose to nod instead. He exited the office and here she was, alone with Chrisjen in a closed off space, possibly with a deadly toxin on them. Not how she had imagined spending more time with her. She couldn’t even really move. At least the powder was only on her hand, unlike Chrisjen who sat perfectly still in her chair, looking uncomfortable.

“I am wasting thousands of dollars, sitting here like this,” she said from behind her mask. It was probably more that the entire floor had been cleared out and no work whatsoever was happening right now. At least Bobbie hoped that was what she was implying. She could imagine her colleagues in the humongous lobby of the building, wondering if Chrisjen was going to die, what that would mean for their jobs. It would be disastrous for Runway, that was for sure.

“If we die, I don’t think it matters.” God, she hoped not. She didn’t want either of them to die because of some stupid powder.

“There’s always that.” Bobbie could hear the phone ringing in the outer office and even Chrisjen’s phone was vibrating on her desk. It felt surreal that they couldn’t answer them. It felt like she had been here for hours, but it had probably been more like a few minutes. She couldn’t deal with this silence and trying to come to terms with the fact that she was touching a toxin and standing this close to Chrisjen who seemed to be trying to find some sort of inner calmness to deal with all of this, but Bobbie wasn’t one for meditating. She needed to be distracted.

“How long do you think it will be for the first responders are here?” she asked. It was the first thing that came to her mind. She just needed to talk to stop the silence. She couldn’t deal with this, a potentially deadly situation and there was nothing she could do to fight it. She couldn’t shoot it or stand up to it. She had to wait for someone else and even then, if it actually was ricin, she couldn’t do anything then either.

“Fast. The procedure when they arrive will take fucking ages.” It was stated in a very matter of fact way. In a way that sounded like she knew more about this than in just a theoretical way.

“Have you been through this before?”

“Fake anthrax letter a few months after I was made Editor in Chief of Runway. But I wasn’t covered in it then.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Racism.” And that was that. Chrisjen had closed that subject and the silence returned. Bobbie couldn’t imagine living with death threats for over two decades, especially after Chrisjen’s father had been killed, but Chrisjen did it, every day, and didn’t show that it bothered her. Bobbie couldn’t do that. If she had an enemy, she wanted to face it, she wanted to deal with it. It was cowardly to hide in the shadows by sending death threats.

Chrisjen turned her head enough to look up at Bobbie. With the mask covering half her face, her eyes were even more expressive. Bobbie knew she could get lost staring into them. “Why didn’t you take James Holden up on his offer to meet the editor of Vanity Fair at the Gala?”

Bobbie blinked, taken aback by the question. Where did that come from? And how did Chrisjen even know Holden had offered her that? The woman had a scary amount of knowledge about people in her head, but she wasn’t psychic, as far as Bobbie knew anyway. Chrisjen was looking up at her, impatiently awaiting an answer. “It was my roommate’s birthday and I had already missed most of it.”

“That’s bullshit. You were ambitious enough to mouth off to me during your interview. If someone offers you a meeting with the editor of Vanity Fair, you take it.” Of course Chrisjen wouldn’t be satisfied with that answer. She didn’t know why she had even tried to not tell the complete truth. Chrisjen had a talent of knowing when she was being lied to her. Her bullshit meter was better than any Bobbie had ever seen.

“It didn’t feel right. I’m putting in the work, all the hours at Runway, because you can make or break my career. If I’m going to get ahead, I want it to be earned, not because I got lucky. It didn’t feel right.” It would have felt like going behind Chrisjen’s back at her own event, only moments after the whole Mao thing. Chrisjen looked a little surprised, but there was a softness in her eyes as well.

“A lot of people wouldn’t have walked away from an opportunity like that with your reasoning and I appreciate your loyalty. It is one of your better qualities. But the next time Holden offers you an opportunity like that, don’t turn him down. I can give you a start to your career, but working for me also offers you the chance to meet people like James and get your foot in the door.” Bobbie hadn’t looked at it like that. She had been so focused on knowing that she had to finish her year with Chrisjen that she hadn’t thought about the opportunities the year could offer her. Single-mindedness had always been one of her weaker points.

But here she was stuck in one of the worst situations possible and she was getting career advice from Chrisjen, in a way. She’d been afraid that being stuck here would lead to awkward silences and wishing she were anywhere else. She still wished she didn’t have ricin on her, but Chrisjen was willing to have a conversation, to talk to keep them distracted from the situation and since this was Chrisjen, it wasn’t going to be an empty conversation. Everything had had to have a purpose in some way.

There was some commotion in the front office and a couple of people in hazmat suits arrived. Bobbie felt a sense of relief come over her, but instead of walking into the office, they began setting up their equipment and putting up plastic to cover the glass doors. So that was what Chrisjen had meant that the procedure would take a long time. She didn’t want to think about it. “Last Saturday, he told me Huffington post was interested after they read my work. They’re too scared of you to offer anything right now though.”

Chrisjen made a sound that sound almost like a laugh, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes, her attention being divided between Bobbie and what was happening outside. “That’s smart of them. Don’t go straight to them after you’ve finished here. Explore your options. There are going to be other publications that will have interest based on your work.”

“You read my work?” Bobbie asked, a little in shock. It was mentioned on her resumé and with a little bit of googling, it could easily be found, but she hadn’t sent it along with her application. Chrisjen would have had to look it up herself. Or had Drummer do it, but she knew Drummer would have told her. So Chrisjen had taken time in her busy schedule to look up what her second assistant had written and had actually read it. She was glad she was wearing a mask to hide the fact that her cheeks were probably red right now.

“I have. It’s not Pulitzer worthy, but it shows promise. You were right to think you could have a career in this.” Now she knew she was blushing. Other than the fact that she had feelings for the woman, she had come to admire Chrisjen and everything she did and had to do to run this magazine and she knew how to pick journalists that wrote amazing pieces. Her saying that she thought Bobbie had promise meant a lot to her.

“Thank you.” She had suddenly a bit of a lump in her throat. Chrisjen didn’t know how she felt about her, but she had to know what saying that meant to Bobbie and she had chosen a moment where she would have been well in her right to be selfish and care about herself and her health to tell Bobbie. She didn’t know how to deal with it other than to feel grateful and ignore the instinct she had to touch her, hug her.

Chrisjen’s attention had been pulled away from Bobbie for a moment. She looked at the HAZMAT unit outside, taping her office shut and then her gaze went to the framed photograph on her desk. She had a bunch of them on the little cabinet behind her that showed her family, but the one on her desk was of her granddaughter. Bobbie had noticed that she looked at it ever once in a while as if to check that it was still there and to remind herself that she had someone to come home to. It was the only weakness she had shown so far and Bobbie could feel an ache in her heart.

“It’s probably fake. The powder,” Bobbie said, only feeling half of the certainty she conveyed. This was Chrisjen, she had a lot of enemies so there was a very real chance that it wasn’t fake, but she had to say something. Chrisjen raised an eyebrow and looked at her, wondering where the hell that had come from. “I saw you looking at the picture of Kiki. You’ll make it home to her.”

At least she hoped she did. That little girl had already lost her parents. She didn’t deserve to lose her grandmother as well. Besides, Kiki wasn’t the only one who needed Chrisjen to make it out of this alive. Chrisjen looked down at the letter on her desk and she sounded oddly vulnerable when she spoke again. “She’s baking a cake with her nanny. She’s been excited about it all week. It’s going to be horribly sweet and fucking pinker than freshly washed pig.”

“That’s adorable.” She could picture Kiki with her nanny, putting too much sugar into it, ending up with a slightly lumpy cake and a bright pink icing that would strip the enamel of anyone’s teeth. Bobbie had small nieces. She knew how it worked. The idea of Chrisjen with a cake like that and eating it, it was cute and it made her that much more human. Chrisjen glanced back at the picture on her desk, an almost sad look in her eyes.

“It is. It’s the only part of my birthday I actually give a damn about.” That actually broke Bobbie’s heart a little bit. It made sense that a woman of Chrisjen’s age didn’t care about birthdays, but it tugged on her heartstrings to see her care so much about her granddaughter and the effort the little girl put in to make her grandmother happy. Placing the hand that wasn’t covered in ricin on Chrisjen’s shoulder, she gave it a gentle squeeze.

“You’ll get to do that tonight.” If Chrisjen was surprised by the fact that Bobbie touched her, she didn’t show her, nor did she tell Bobbie to get her hand off her. She actually seemed to lean a little closer, as if she appreciated the small gesture of comfort. If anyone were to walk in, it would be an odd view, a woman sat frozen on her chair while her second assistant had a hand on her shoulder and the other one held out, not moving it while they both wore masks.

“I got you a gift,” Bobbie blurted out when she felt a tension building within herself. This moment had just felt so strangely intimate and knowing that she couldn’t leave it, the first thing her brain had come up with to change the energy was to say that. And now she mostly just wanted to facepalm. Chrisjen looked mildly confused, but a slightly entertained at the same time.

“You did? Why?”

“I saw it and it reminded me of you.” Bobbie pulled her hand from Chrisjen’s shoulder and closed her eyes as soon as she had said it. God, that sounded dumb. It sounded like some line from a mediocre painfully straight romcom. She wouldn’t blame Chrisjen for laughing at her, or saying something scathing, but when she opened her eyes, while it looked like Chrisjen was smiling behind her mask, it didn’t look mocking.

“Well, now this powder had better not be ricin. I want to see what it is.” It was just a photograph of a flower. Now she felt even more ridiculous that she had mentioned it. It hadn’t even cost that much, because Prax had been an absolute sweetheart and offered it to her for hardly any money at all. But it was just a framed photograph. It wasn’t anything special. Her thoughts were disrupted but the plastic outside ruffling and the door to the office opening. A woman in a hazmat suit walked in.

“Hi, my name is Leelee from the Hazardous Material Unit and I will be the one guiding you through this today. How are you doing under the circumstances?”

“You don’t seem old enough to drive, let alone make sure we don’t fucking die,” Chrisjen said, before Bobbie had even had the time to process at all and look at the woman inside the suit. She did seem very young, but there was a cockiness about her. Bobbie didn’t give a shit about who was in the suit as long as they were able to help the both of them out of this, but Chrisjen was Chrisjen and she wasn’t in a mood to be polite, apparently.

“I can leave, you’ll just have to wait until they can drum up another crisis handler,” Leelee shot back, not intimidated by Chrisjen in the least. Bobbie admired that. She wondered if Chrisjen did. Her boss looked mildly pissed off, but after a pause gave a curt nod.

“Fine, just, do what you need to do. And do it fast.”

“Alright, first let’s replace these masks with some that actually work.” Leelee touch was sure as she removed Bobbie’s mask and replaced with something HAZMAT approved and did the same to Chrisjen who didn’t look at all pleased that someone else was touching her.

“Now, I’m going to take a sample first and have it tested. While that is happening, I will attempt to get the powder off you without any further contamination. Now it is on your hand, your lap and the letter on the desk, right?” Bobbie nodded. Leelee carefully picked up the letter and tilted it above a bag, to catch all of the powder. She knew she had a mask, but Bobbie didn’t dare to breathe all the same. When Leelee was satisfied she had all of it, she disappeared from the office to hand the sample off to her unit.

“She looks like a goddamn teenager,” Chrisjen said, annoyance lacing her words.

“I’m sure she’s not. They wouldn’t dare send someone unqualified and incompetent to you.” Thankfully, Leelee reappeared before Chrisjen could get into a discussion with her. And truth be told, Bobbie was getting a little tired of holding up her hand like this.

“Alright, I want to start with you, since it’s only on your hand. You’re going to tilt your hand so it can all fall into this bag and then grab one of these wipes to clean it all off.” She didn’t care how old or young Leelee was. She sounded confident and she gave clear orders. Bobbie nodded and waited until Leelee held out the bag and then carefully tilted her hand and the powder just slid off leaving only a little residue. The blonde smiled at her and held up the wipes, allowing Bobbie to take one before moving on to the less patient woman in the chair.

“Now you, I’m going to roll you away from the desk and ask you to slowly stand up. Let the powder fall off you, don’t shake it off.” Leelee kneeled in front of her and Bobbie could tell Chrisjen wanted to get it off her. The calmness she had exuded when she had talked to Bobbie had disappeared. She now had one focus and that was to get out of this situation, but she stood up slowly, letting the white powder fall into the bag that Leelee held up.

“Is that it?”

“No. Now I need you to step into this bag and take off your dress and shoes, making sure that the contaminated fabric doesn’t touch your skin.” Leelee placed a toxic waste bag on the floor and Bobbie was glad her mask hid her smirk. Even though this was a very serious matter, there was something very funny about Chrisjen taking off her designer clothes to put them in a waste bag, a toxic waste bag at that.

“This dress costs more than your little mobile lab out there,” Chrisjen tone was lethal and the look in her eyes wasn’t much better. It wasn’t that she wasn’t aware of the risk this powder brought with it. She simply hated this entire situation. She hadn’t taken it out on Bobbie, so now Leelee was her target, but the blonde wasn’t impressed.

“I don’t care. The substance has gotten in between the fibers. Take it off.” Chrisjen appeared incredibly pissed off, but she still reached behind her to unzip her dress. And that was when Bobbie was hit with the other side of Chrisjen having to take her clothes off in a toxic waste bag. It would mean Chrisjen would undress, in front of her. She knew shortness of breath was one of the first symptoms of ricin poisoning, but she knew that this was entirely brought on by Chrisjen taking her dress off.

Of course Chrisjen didn’t tell them to look away. She didn’t care that Bobbie and a complete stranger were watching her. Bobbie felt hot as Chrisjen freed her arms from her dress, baring her chest incased the most delicate lace that Bobbie had ever seen. The color matched her dress and seemed to make her skin glow.

Bobbie felt so conflicted as she watched her. On the one hand, she didn’t want to leer at Chrisjen like some teenage boy who couldn’t get his hormones under control, but on the other hand, this was probably going to be the one time she would see Chrisjen in any state of undress and she’d hate herself for, at minimum, a decade if she didn’t at least look to see if reality matched up with her fantasy. So far, it was outmatching it.

Even though Chrisjen’s clothes were tailored within an inch of their lives, her curves looked even better without them. She was just so stunning, the faint freckles on her skin, her breasts were perfect and her waist was so tiny. As Chrisjen pushed the dress down to land in the bag, she showed that she had that hourglass figure women dreamed of without it being ridiculously perfect. She wasn’t young or very thin, she had stretchmarks, just like any other human.

Bobbie wanted to tell her she was stunning, because she was, standing there in just expensive lingerie (and a facemask), all of her imperfections on show. Bobbie couldn’t look away even if she had wanted to. She imagined there were very few people who would have. This was the worst time to be turned on, but it was happening anyway. Chrisjen moved her hair over her shoulder and caught Bobbie’s eye.

Busted.

She had openly been staring up, making sure to commit everything to memory and now Chrisjen was looking at her, her eyes slightly narrowed. Bobbie prayed it wouldn’t be too obvious she was turned on and had been gawking at her. It was hard to tell with the mask on, but Chrisjen almost looked intrigued to have caught Bobbie staring at her like that.

“We have a suit for you to put on,” Leelee said, unaware of whatever had been happening between Bobbie and Chrisjen, and held up something white after Chrisjen had stepped out of the bag. Chrisjen raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t fucking think so.” Chrisjen stepped out of the bag, ignoring the suit that Leelee held out. She made sure to look at Bobbie as she walked past her. The expression in her eyes sent a spark down Bobbie’s spine. She didn’t know what that had meant, but it hadn’t come across as innocent. Bobbie turned around to watch Chrisjen walk to the closet in the far corner of her office. While Leelee was packing the bags with the possible ricin in, Chrisjen pulled out a white dress with dramatic black lines on it.

It was almost as enticing to watch Chrisjen put on a dress as it was to watch her pull it off. She stepped into it and almost seemed to go in slow motion as she pulled it up her body. Bobbie had never seen that dress before and it was tight even before it was zipped up.

“I’m going to see where they are on the test. Wait in this office until I have news for you,” Leele said and left again. Chrisjen waited until the office door had closed and the plastic had settled. They were back alone in their bubble and now there was a definite tension in the air that Bobbie wasn’t sure on how to deal with.

“Zip me up. Please.” Fuck. Of course. Chrisjen had her back to her. She had unzipped her own dress, so it was likely she could do this herself as well, but Bobbie wasn’t going to question her about it. This whole day had felt surreal anyway. Chrisjen asking her to zip her up and saying please might as well happen too.

Her hands shook and smelled of disinfectant as she pulled up the zipper, hiding that wine colored bra from view. Chrisjen shook out her hair as best as she could with the elastic of the mask holding it in place and straightened her dress before turning around. She was so much shorter without heels, especially with Bobbie in ankle boots with a 4 inch heel. Sometimes she forgot how small Chrisjen was when she was such a force of nature. “Thank you.”

She sat down on the sofa and crossed her legs, gesturing for Bobbie to join her. Her pedicure matched her manicure, gold nail polish. Bobbie moved a little stiffly as she sat down on the same couch. She didn’t know what was going to happen now. Well, they would wait for the test result, but other than that, here she was on a sofa with Chrisjen.

“Are you still holding up?” Chrisjen asked gently, her head tilted slightly as she looked at Bobbie. This felt so personal. After everything that had happened, it was only natural, but it was still difficult to adjust to being relaxed around Chrisjen. She usually received orders and tasks or watched her cut some people down. Any glimpse of the woman behind the editor was welcome, but it was also always a shock, because Bobbie never expected it, even after she had seen her in her underwear.

“I guess. I can’t change anything about it.” Which was what she hated most about it. It was out of her hands.

“Are you still blaming yourself?”

Bobbie looked down at her own hands. She knew it was ridiculous. “A little.”

“That’s some improvement.” All of the snippiness she had had towards Leelee had disappeared and now Chrisjen almost looked relaxed, leaning back as if she were having a casual conversation on a normal day.

“How are you so calm?”

“It’s no use wasting my energy on something I cannot change the outcome of, but if it helps, I’m fucking nervous. I just hide it well.” Really well. In fact, she looked perfectly fine, if it weren’t for the mask and the bare feet. It was probably years of practice having to school her emotions for the public eye. And this was Chrisjen, if she wanted something, she made it happen and that included making sure she seemed calm and collected on the outside, even though there had be a real fear there that it was ricin.

“That’s good to know.” They both turned their heads when they heard the plastic crinkle and the door to the office opened. Leelee appeared without her protective headgear and Bobbie knew it was good news before she said it.

“Good news, it’s not ricin. It’s baking powder.” Bobbie couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her and she heard Chrisjen say ‘thank fucking Christ’. Chrisjen didn’t waste a moment to pull off her mask and relief was written all over her face. Whatever she had done to hide her nerves, it was gone now, her emotions out in the open. Bobbie removed her own masked and smiled widely. The rush she felt was indescribable. She had been in life or death situations before, but this was different and it felt so good that it had been life.

She found that Chrisjen was looking at her and when she returned her gaze, Chrisjen smiled and held out her hand. Without thinking about it, Bobbie took it. Just for a that moment everthing else seemed to melt away and all of her attention was on the way Chrisjen was holding her hand and smiling at her. “We’re not dying today.”

“No, we’re not,” Bobbie said with a grin. Chrisjen moved her thumb over the back of her hand before she released it.

“So we’re going to clean up out there and then the police will come in and talk to you. And yes, this means you will get your fancy clothes back.” That last bit was shamelessly directed at Chrisjen and Bobbie didn’t bother to hide her amusement. Very few people dared to poke the dragon lady, but Leelee did and it was kind of fun to see.

“Thank you,” Bobbie said before Chrisjen could say something that was going to include a few choice words. Leelee left the office with a mischievous smile just before the plastic that had covered the doors was being yanked down. Bobbie spotted her work phone on the floor and turned back towards Chrisjen. “My personal phone is on my desk. Is it alright if I let my friends and family know I’m fine? I’m sure this will have hit social media by now.”

“Go. Talk to your friends. But come back when you’re done.” Was Chrisjen’s mind already back on work? It didn’t matter. Bobbie picked up her work phone and made her way to the outer office, opening the doors and keeping them open. Her and Drummer’s desk were completely taken over by the HAZMAT unit, but she ignored all of it and grabbed her phone. As she had suspected, there were a bunch of missed calls and texts, getting increasingly more worried.

She spent some time to text everyone back, it would have taken too much time to call them all. The only person she called was her dad, who made some comment about an office job apparently being as dangerous as being in the army. But he and everyone she had texted was happy to know it was a false alarm, though not quite as happy to discover she had been in the room with the fake toxin. She’d make it up to them. Or just get outrageously drunk with them whichever worked best.

She was about to walk back into Chrisjen’s office, ready to go back to work when Leelee stood in front of her, without her hazmat suit this time. She looked even younger out of it, but a faded concert t-shirt and jeans with rips in them weren’t going to age up anyone. She was kind of cute though. “So this might be strange and a bit forward, but I believe in going after what you want. Would you like to grab a drink sometime?”

Oh. Not strange, but forward, yes. Unexpected, absolutely. And she didn’t like turning people down, but even though she didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell with Chrisjen, especially if she never told her, she didn’t want to go on a date with someone else when the only person she had eyes for was her boss. “You know I would, but –”

“You’ve got a girlfriend.”

“God, no. I wish. But I do have feelings for someone and I don’t think that would be fair to you.” There. That had seemed like a polite way to turn her down. She would have loved to have gone for drinks if the situation had been different, if she wasn’t basically head over heels with the woman who was still walking around barefoot in her office. Leelee shrugged.

“It was worth a shot. I hope it works out between you and her.” Yeah, in an alternate universe it probably would work out between them. In this one, not likely. It was alright. She had made her peace with it. That didn’t make it any easier to be around Chrisjen and deal with her feelings at the same time though. And speaking of that woman, she took a deep breath and walked into the office, ready to be her second assistant again and pretend everything was normal.

Chrisjen was standing, looking out the window. When she heard Bobbie walk in, she turned around and held out a tumbler with an amber colored liquid in it. Bobbie had picked up liquor for her office a few times and she knew that it was in all likelihood a very expensive whiskey. “Here, drink. You both need and deserve it.”

“It’s 11 am,” Bobbie said a little incredulously. They had work and the police were coming.

“I don’t fucking care. A ricin scare is the best excuse to drink before lunch.” Bobbie had to admit that she had a point and fuck it. She really could use a drink. She accepted the glass. Chrisjen held up her own. “To not fucking dying.”

“To not fucking dying,” Bobbie echoed and clinked her tumbler against Chrisjen’s, making sure to look straight into her eyes as she did it. She was still looking into her eyes when she took a sip and was completely taken by surprise by the taste. “Oh my god. That is amazing.”

“I know.”

Returning to a regular workday after all of that had been impossible. Not long after they had finished their drink, Runway employees had returned, followed very quickly by the police who had questioned Chrisjen and her separately, asking all sort of questions about the envelope, the letter, whether Chrisjen had any enemies. Bobbie had remained serious up until that point. She had laughed and explained to them that Chrisjen received death threats on a daily basis from complete strangers, so people who actually knew her probably wanted to do worse. The police would have their hands full with this one.

Most the workday had been gone by the time they were done and even the people who hadn’t been in that office had had a hard to start up and work today. Chrisjen left earlier, declaring the day lost, but everyone had fucking better work twice as hard tomorrow. Bobbie handed her her coat, but Chrisjen didn’t walked away. She looked at her expectantly until Bobbie realized that she was waiting for the gift. She was glad she had wrapped it, but her face still heated up when she handed it to her.

With no Book to wait for, Drummer and Cotyar asked if she had wanted to go out and grab a drink, get rid of the stress of the day, but Bobbie declined. She just wanted to be alone.

Walking into her apartment before six for the first time in a long time felt amazing. She collapsed on the couch and moaned as she felt the weirdness of the day melt away. Her emotions were a bit of a mess. Chrisjen had treated her like a person, but that could all be blamed on the situation. But she had still wanted Bobbie’s gift. It was all so confusing.

She had almost fallen asleep on the couch when she received a text. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”


	9. Chapter 9

After the ricin incident, the police had returned a few more times, but as far as Bobbie knew there hadn’t been any helpful developments or maybe they just weren’t sharing. They suspected it had been done to scare or intimidate Chrisjen, but the motivation behind it eluded them and Bobbie. The note hadn’t divulged any information about its author or the reasoning to send ricin, or in this case, baking powder disguised as ricin to Chrisjen.

After a couple of weeks, it was almost like it had never happened, other than the fact that whenever Chrisjen was alone with Bobbie she was politer, kinder. She said ‘thank you’ and ‘please’ and she smiled whenever she told Bobbie to fuck off. She even asked how Bobbie was doing every once in a while. She was being more personal and it wasn’t fake. She was actually interested. It did nothing to help Bobbie’s confusion about Chrisjen. She knew her own feelings, those were crystal clear.

But Chrisjen, the woman had been purely professional while cursing up a storm, demanding the almost impossible for months and it had changed some over time, some of the harshness had disappeared, but now she was downright nice, smiling, showing an interest in Bobbie. And Bobbie didn’t want to read too much into the situation, but it was hard to know what to make of it. It wasn’t that a mildly traumatic experience had changed Chrisjen. She was still being as blunt to everybody else.

It was puzzling to say the least.

She’d get a reprieve from it soon. Fashion week in Paris was coming up and this time, it was really only the first assistant who could join. Drummer had been working to put together Chrisjen’s itinerary, contacting designers, the hotel, and god knows what else. Bobbie didn’t pay that much attention to it. She was busy enough with all the regular work.

It was the Friday before everyone would leave the next day, somewhere in the morning, when Drummer called her just after Chrisjen had come in. It wasn’t like her to be late, so Bobbie hoped she was alright. “Hey, where are –”

“Shut up. I have one question. Do you have a passport?”

“I do?” She was wondering where the hell this was going, but she had a sinking feeling she wasn’t going to like it.

“Be sure,” Drummer said curtly. She sounded off. Drummer could have this emotionless quality to her voice, but now it sounded forced. It wasn’t good. Bobbie straightened up in her chair. She was worried about her and whatever she could do to help her, she’d do it.

“I am.” She always made sure to keep her passport up to date even when she didn’t have the money to travel. She was almost certain it was somewhere in the top drawer of her nightstand. She really needed to clean that thing out.

“Okay, good. That’s good.” There was a moment of silence and Bobbie could hear Drummer take a deep breath. It sounded a little shaky. Something was definitely wrong. “Ashford passed away last night and I have to arrange the funeral and everything. I can’t go to Paris. But now that I know you have a passport, you can go and I’ll call Chrisjen.”

“Let me take care of that. I’ll tell her. You focus on what you need to do. I know where to find the folder you saved everything for Paris. I can do this.” She thought so anyway. She didn’t know what would happen in Paris other than a lot of fashion shows, events, luncheons and such. She’d have to study the itinerary and oh, god, she was going to Paris. Her brain was going a million miles a minute and it came to a screeching halt when she realized that Drummer had lost someone who was important to her.

“Thank you.”

“Drummer. I’m sorry for your loss. I wish I could be there to support you.” She did. Drummer needed people there. And fuck, she couldn’t go to her, she couldn’t even be at the funeral if she was going to Paris. Her ‘thank you’ had sounded so sad. Bobbie had lost her mom when she was a little girl. She knew what it felt like to lose a parent, or someone like a parent. It was gut wrenching. She wanted to jump into the phone and hug her, even though Drummer would probably hate that.

“I know. I’m not alone. I… Naomi is here.” Oh. Oh. Well that was good. She hadn’t known the two of them had gotten close enough that Naomi was there the morning after something terrible had happened, but it was good that they were. Naomi was good at providing emotional support. And she was going to find out where the two of them were after she got back from Paris, because if she had been somewhat responsible for the two of them getting together, she kind of wanted to take credit for that.

“Good. Take care.” Drummer made a non-committal sound and hung up. It was terrible that she had lost someone so important to her. She made a mental note to send her something to show her support.

And then the realization crashed upon her. She was going to Paris, with Chrisjen and a couple of other people from Runway, including Cotyar. But Chrisjen was the most important of them. She’d be in the same hotel, following her to everything. She wouldn’t be able to go to a place to get her mind off Chrisjen. Instead of getting a reprieve, it would just be her for over a week, in a beautiful European city, with a woman she had been in love with for months. It was going to be tough.

Chrisjen appeared from her office, a hand on her hip, impatience written on her face. “Where is she?”

“She had a friend in the hospital,” Bobbie started, only to be interrupted by Chrisjen.

“Klaes Ashford.” Of course Chrisjen knew that. She even knew the guy’s first name which Bobbie had never known. Sometimes it was scary how much Chrisjen knew, considering Bobbie still had no idea where she got her information.

“He passed away last night and she has to take care of the funeral arrangements. She can’t come to Paris.” Bobbie watched as the impatience disappeared from Chrisjen’s face. She even removed her hand from her hip. She looked, not shocked, but there was compassion in her eyes. Dragon lady or not, she cared when one of her assistants lost someone that important to her.

“No, of course not. Send her flowers from Runway.” That was surprisingly nice of her. Bobbie would make sure they would arrive today. Chrisjen looked at her, her expression changing to something akin to intrigue, a small smile playing on her lips. “Have you ever been to Paris?”

“Never.” She hadn’t even been to Europe.

“You have about 36 hours to prepare yourself.” It was official. She was going to Paris. Chrisjen looked almost pleased with that thought as she walked back into her office. Bobbie let out a slow breath. Okay. Paris. An eight hour flight and then ten days in what was said to be one of the most romantic cities in the world and she was going to do all of that with Chrisjen. She hoped her itinerary was packed, because she didn’t think she would be able to handle a lot of free time.

Unsurprisingly, it was almost impossibly full when she pulled it up. They’d be going all over Paris to watch shows and attend parties, interviews, it was so much. Bobbie could only spot one free night for herself when Chrisjen had some dinner scheduled. It didn’t say who with, just that it was private. But other than that, she would be working from dawn till dusk and beyond to keep up with Chrisjen and everything she had to do and visit.

She changed the tickets to Paris to be in her name, checked that the reservation for her room was in Runway’s name and not in Drummer’s, shot off a text to Cotyar that she would be going to Paris and then started on the to do list that Drummer had texted, everything that still had to be done today in preparation for the trip to Paris. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to make her groan. Doing Drummer’s job and do all the work she normally had to do, it was going to be a long day.

Much to her surprise, Chrisjen was a lot less demanding than usual, as if she wanted to give Bobbie the time and space to prepare herself for the madness that was going to be Fashion week. She felt both excited and apprehensive. Paris had always sounded amazing, but she was woefully unprepared for this and she didn’t want to let Chrisjen down. She also wasn’t sure how she would deal with being in a hotel room with her.

Being in her office alone with her during the whole ricin thing had already been a difficult experience. Being in close proximity to Chrisjen, it brought all her feelings to the surface and she had to fight to keep them under control. That had mostly failed when Chrisjen had decided to strip in front of her, of course. But an office was still a professional setting. Cruising around Paris, staying in a hotel where Chrisjen would no doubt want to talk to her while in her suite, that was different. That was more personal.

By the end of the day, Bobbie was nervous. She still wanted to go, but she was nervous all the same. At least she’d be separated from Chrisjen during the flight. Everyone at Runway flew business except for Chrisjen, who flew first class. She had never flown any better than economy so business seemed like a nice upgrade, so could spent time talking to Cotyar, ask him for some advice. She was very badly hiding a yawn when Chrisjen stepped out of her office, waiting for Bobbie to retrieve her coat. Was it that late already.

“Go home. You don’t have to wait for the Book. A car will pick you up tomorrow.”

* * *

When Chrisjen had said that a car would pick her up, Bobbie had expected just another company car, but when the driver stepped out to put her luggage in the trunk, Bobbie recognized him as Chrisjen’s driver. And there were suitcases in the trunk already. Bobbie swallowed heavily. She hadn’t slept very well, mulling over how she was going to cope with being in close proximity to Chrisjen for over a week and then her dreams had been haunted by Chrisjen, smiling, softly touching, wearing the lingerie Bobbie had seen her in a few weeks ago.

“Good morning,” she said as she slid into the car. Chrisjen was there, a tablet in her lap, reading glasses perched on her nose. She looked up when Bobbie closed the door and the car pulled away. She didn’t appear to be too happy.

“Good remains to be fucking seen, but yes, morning.” Something was bothering her and it wasn’t Bobbie, because she had still greeted her instead of just giving her a glare.

“Is there something I can do?”

“I fucking hate flying.” Chrisjen Avasarala, the woman who instilled fear in a lot people, even those outside of the fashion world, was afraid of flying. Bobbie hid a smile. Everybody was afraid of something, but she hadn’t pictured Chrisjen’s fear to be something that basic, that common. It added to her humanity. And it was also a bit funny.

“Flying or just the takeoff and landing?”

“All of it. I prefer my feet on the ground where they fucking belong.” This time when Bobbie smiled, Chrisjen caught it and she rolled her eyes. “I’m glad you find this funny.”

“Sorry. It’s hard to picture you afraid of anything, it’s a different look on you.” And it was. She had seen Chrisjen in a horrible situation not that long ago and she had stayed mostly calm. It wasn’t that she was brimming with nervous energy now, but she seemed a little anxious, moving her fingers constantly, a tightness in her jaw.

“And what are you afraid of?”

Failing people she cared about, accidentally telling Chrisjen she was in love with her, being rejected by her. There was a list and it was all very personal and didn’t resemble being afraid of flying at all. So she couldn’t tell Chrisjen all of that, not if she didn’t want her worst fears to come true. “Spiders. Hate the fucking things. My roommate always to get rid of them for me.”

“We all have our weaknesses.” And Bobbie’s biggest one was sitting about a feet away from her, clicking through her emails, typing up quick replies that Bobbie predicted had a few words in them that weren’t at all appropriate for a work email. They settled into a comfortable silence as the car drove through New York. Bobbie looked out at the tinted window. She hadn’t left the city in so long. It would be strange to be in a foreign country. She didn’t even speak the language.

“I put up your gift,” Chrisjen said out of nowhere as she took off her reading glasses and focused her attention on Bobbie.

“You did?” She hadn’t expected Chrisjen to do anything with it. Chrisjen got a ridiculous amount of gifts, most of which she donated. A gift from her second assistant, a photograph from an unknown artist wasn’t something that would stand out. At least she hadn’t thought so. She had convinced herself that Chrisjen had sent that text to be nice, even though she had always had a small voice telling her that Chrisjen didn’t do things just to be nice.

“When I said it was beautiful, I meant it. Kiki thinks it’s pretty too.” She had put it up somewhere where Kiki could see it? Bobbie was momentarily at a loss for her words. She had bought it pretty much on a whim, because she couldn’t stop thinking about Chrisjen while she looked at it and it made her feel all warm inside knowing that Chrisjen had liked it enough to put up somewhere where other people could see it.

“I’m glad,” she managed, her emotions coming close to surface again.

“I looked up the artist. His work is interesting, rough around the edges and unguided, but interesting. I would like to use some of it in Runway. Would he be open to that?”

“I don’t know. One of my friends is close to him, so I’ll ask.” Prax had seemed a little shy, a little awkward, but he had a passion for his work. Bobbie didn’t know if he wanted to be launched on what was a national platform with an international reach. He seemed quite content to do what he did, muck about with plants and turn it into art. But she would ask all the same.

“Please do. Talent deserves a platform. Someone will discover him soon enough and I want to beat them to the punch.” And there was the Chrisjen she was more familiar with. Of course she wanted to get the scoop on something new before her competitors, even though plant-based art wasn’t what Runway made its money from. But she still set a reminder for herself to ask Amos if she could talk to Prax once she got back from Paris.

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence where Chrisjen worked, her nails occasionally tapping against the touchscreen and Bobbie either looked out the window or was on her phone. Where her texts varied from ‘good luck in Paris!’ to ‘you should fuck your boss in Paris. It’s the city of love.’ That last one had come from Amos and she had decided to just sent him back the middle finger emoji, before quickly closing that text chain on the off chance that somehow Chrisjen would be able to read it.

“Since when is Chrisjen picking you up?” Cotyar asked when they arrived at the airport.

“Since today. And don’t give me that look. I was as surprised as you are.” Cotyar’s expression didn’t change and it spoke volumes. She would have punched him in the arm if Chrisjen weren’t close by. She did not want to have to explain that to her. Luckily, everything at the airport went off without a hitch and before she knew it she was boarding a plane bound for Paris. Paris. It hadn’t necessarily been on her bucket list, but now that she was buckling seat belt, she was excited to see it.

* * *

Paris was breathtaking. It felt like a different world. Bobbie was glued to the window of their car as they drove from Charles de Gaulle to the city center and she couldn’t be sure, because she had barely looked at a map of Paris, but she had a feeling their car took a detour to the hotel. She knew where that was and where the Arc the Triomphe was and it made no logical sense to drive over Place d’Étoile, circling the massive arch to then move on to their hotel. When she caught Chrisjen’s faint reflection in the window, she saw that she was looking at her with a soft smile on her face.

She was seeing things she had only ever seen in pictures and films. She almost couldn’t believe she was here and sadly, she would barely have any time to see any of it. Depending on how this week was going to go, she would have to try to come here. It was a nice drive, but it had to come to an end and she felt a pang of disappointment when the car pulled up to a stop in front of their hotel. But then she looked at the hotel and it disappeared.

It was fancy. Really fancy with bellhops and everything. Her room was so nice and it was one of the smaller rooms. Chrisjen’s though, that was a suite that was about the size of Bobbie’s apartment, give or take a few square feet and it had an amazing view of the city, especially at night. Chrisjen seemed right at home as she settled on the sofa and called her granddaughter while Bobbie made sure everything was set up for the next ten days.

“Nice view, right?” Chrisjen said when she caught Bobbie staring out her window. Bobbie jumped, not having realized that Chrisjen was done with her conversation.

“It is. It doesn’t seem real.” And it was a hell of a lot better than from Bobbie’s room which was a floor down where the view was good, but blocked by more buildings.

“Seeing Paris through new eyes, I’m almost jealous. After you’ve lived here, the magic kind of disappears.” Bobbie couldn’t imagine living in a place like this, but she supposed a lot of people thought the same thing about New York. Big cities were always romanticized, but Paris was different. At least Bobbie thought so. She could picture Chrisjen living here, younger than Bobbie was now, working at Runway Paris, building a career faster than anyone had ever had and doing it all with her intelligence and the talent to bind people to her, including some of the top French designers.

Bobbie wondered if Chrisjen ever got nostalgic about those days. Working her way to the top had to be more interesting than being at the top. Maybe she was wrong. She was still at the bottom rung. Chrisjen stood next to her, their arms close enough that Bobbie could feel the warmth from her skin. Chrisjen appeared contemplative as she watched the view. It was a nice moment that was broken when Chrisjen cleared her throat and stepped away.

“Your internal clock will be absolutely fucked, so get something to eat and go to bed. I need you at your best in the coming week.” Chrisjen walked away, back to the sofa, putting on the tv to the news as she stepped out of her shoes, making herself at home. It reminded Bobbie of the time she had seen her in home office. She had seemed so much more relaxed than at work and it was the same thing now, like a mask was disappearing.

“Will do. See you tomorrow.” Chrisjen hummed, apparently wanting to catch something on the news. It was in French so Bobbie had no idea what was being said. Chrisjen looked engrossed however. She grabbed her bag and was on her way out when the volume of the tv turned down a little.

“Yes, see you tomorrow.” Bobbie wasn’t sure when Chrisjen had stopped saying ‘fuck off’’ to her and had started saying goodbye to her like a normal person. She kind of missed those signature goodbyes, but it was also nice to know that Chrisjen seemingly cared enough to be nice to her. She smiled and walked out of the hotel room with the feeling that Chrisjen was watching her leave, but she was too chickenshit to turn around and check.

* * *

Chrisjen had been right. Her internal clock was fucked when she woke up the next morning. It had been hard to fall asleep, even after the bad night she had had before. Her mind was foggy when she woke up the next day after what felt like two hours of sleep, even though she had gone to bed at a reasonable hour. She had just been awake for so long, her body filled with nervous energy. Chrisjen seemed so casual, so normal with her now. In some moments it was easy to forget she was her boss and that was a problem.

And that problem didn’t disappear as she walked into Chrisjen’s suite the next morning fifteen minutes ahead of schedule, just like Chrisjen always worked and found her buttoning the last button on her blouse, no lipstick applied yet, no shoes on her stockinged feet. This was Chrisjen at the end of her morning routine, not quite ready to leave yet.

“Paris time. The French are always twenty minutes late for fucking everything and since I don’t feel like waiting around for thirty five minutes with my thumb up my ass, I adjust.” The last word was said with an enormous amount of disgust as if adjusting was the worst thing she could be forced to do. Bobbie pressed her lips together to hide her smile, but she must have failed because Chrisjen raised a knowing eyebrow as she took a sip from her tea.

“So I can sleep in tomorrow?” Bobbie asked, a little teasingly. Chrisjen rolled her eyes as she walked over to a mirror to apply her lipstick with a practiced ease of someone who had done it a million times. It was a little hypnotizing to watch. Chrisjen caught her eye in the reflection as she carelessly threw her lipstick in her purse.

“If you want to call it that, sure.”

“Paris and sleeping in, this is almost sounding like a vacation.”

“You’ll lose that idea before lunch.” Chrisjen adjusted her necklace and straightened her skirt. “Let’s go.”

It definitely wasn’t a vacation. Even though Fashion week wouldn’t kick off until tomorrow and the French generally reserved Sunday to rest, Chrisjen’s day was packed and unlike Fashion week itself, Cotyar and the few other Runway employees had their own things to do, so today it would be just the two of them, going to designers, getting mini-showcases, visiting the ateliers where some of the finishing touches were done. A few preemptive interviews with Chrisjen and her expectations of this Fashion week.

It was all interesting, but a lot to take in, but Bobbie’s favorite thing was when they walked into the Grand Palais where they were setting up for a fashion show. The hall was huge and the set matched it. The glass ceiling, the dozens of people working, it was amazing that so much effort went into a single fashion show. Chrisjen had seen it all before and made some comments before they were off to the next thing. At the end of the day Bobbie was exhausted and happily fell into her bed.

It turned out that the first day had been nothing compared to that Sunday. Fashion week was insane. They went from show to show, cameras waiting every time they stepped out of the car to get a good picture of Chrisjen entering a venue. Bobbie picked Chrisjen up in her suite every morning and stayed with her the entire day, throughout lunches held by sponsors, extravagant dinners and parties that only existed so the big names in fashion could talk.

Bobbie took notes of Chrisjen’s view on every show, the trends that would come out of it. She did everything that was asked her and more, ensuring there was tea before Chrisjen even knew she needed it. She was rewarded with short conversations in the car where Chrisjen asked her opinion on the shows, even joked about some of the ridiculous things other celebrity guests had been wearing. Those moments became the thing Bobbie looked forward to every day, those small private moment where Chrisjen dropped her editor mask.

After a few days, Bobbie couldn’t count the amount of hands she had shook or air kisses she had received. Chrisjen had made a point to introduce Bobbie to the designers, to editors, journalists, influencers, the list went on and on. A few had even asked the downright ridiculous question if Bobbie was an up and coming model. Bobbie had wanted to deny it, but Chrisjen had beaten her to the punch saying that ‘no, but she’s beautiful enough for it’. And then that had sent Bobbie spiraling for a moment. She kept repeating the moment in her head. Chrisjen had called her beautiful.

“She’s not blind, Red. You are beautiful,” Cotyar said after she had told him about it. He had come to her room to drop off yet more clothes and samples. The amount of goodie bags and clothes she and everybody was receiving was insane. She understood why she had needed to book a few extra suitcases for the flight home. There was some beautiful stuff there as well, but a lot seemed useless and unnecessary.

“But she said it to people, famous people and she’s been so nice to me, having conversations like she wants to get to know me and values my opinion. She’s not like that with other people. She’s barely like that with you.”

“Maybe she likes you.” It sounded so flippant as if saying that Chrisjen liked her meant nothing. And besides it couldn’t be true. She was a second assistant. Chrisjen talked to her and accepted her birthday gift, but it didn’t mean anything, right?

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I don’t see what the problem is. So she’s being nice to you. Considering how you feel about her, shouldn’t you be delighted?”

“I am. But it’s confusing. It’s not like she’ll ever feel the same way.” A straight, intelligent, beautiful, older woman who was her boss was never going to fall for her a woman like her. It wasn’t in the cards. Chrisjen being nice to her, even if it made her feel all warm inside, it only reminded her of everything she would never have with her.

“Just let it happen and enjoy it. Don’t think about it too much. Now. It’s our night off, so I’m going to meet up with some friends. See you.” She waved him off and jumped when she saw the time. Oh crap. She was supposed to have been in Chrisjen’s suite a few minutes ago to go over the schedule for tomorrow. Grabbing her stuff she made her way a floor up and let herself into Chrisjen’s suite. She usually found her sitting on the sofa, the news chattering on in the background as she looked through photographs of the shows she had seen that day.

But Chrisjen wasn’t there. The lights were on, so she assumed she was somewhere in the suite. She waited for a moment, perhaps she was in the bathroom or something, but when Chrisjen hadn’t appeared after a few moment, Bobbie decided to look in the bedroom. The door was open, so she hoped she wasn’t walking in on something inappropriate. She didn’t see anything inappropriate, but she would have preferred that to what she was seeing.

Chrisjen was sitting on the edge of the bed in a silk robe, her phone next to her, as she stared out the window. Her eyes were looking watery, a little red-rimmed. She looked so small and vulnerable sitting there like that. It hurt Bobbie to see her like this and she was sure that Chrisjen wouldn’t want to see her like this either. She was about to back out of the room when Chrisjen turned her head. “Oh. You’re here.”

She sounded distracted as if she had forgotten that Bobbie was supposed to come over. She probably had. It was heartbreaking and Bobbie wanted to close the distance and wrap her arms around to offer her some clearly much needed comfort. “I’m sorry. I can leave.”

“Don’t be. You’re doing your job.”

“Can I do anything for you?”

“Turn back time?” God, she sounded so sad and then it clicked in Bobbie’s brain. The part of the argument she had witnessed. It had to be today. She couldn’t imagine anything else reducing Chrisjen to this.

“It’s today, isn’t it? The day your son - -” She couldn’t even finish the sentence. Chrisjen looked down at the hands in her lap for a moment and nodded. When she caught Bobbie’s eye again, it seemed like fresh tears were gathering there. The pain of losing a child was unimaginable, no matter how rich or famous you were.

“Five years. It’s been five years, since we were skiing and I watched him disappear off the edge of a mountain, since a doctor told me there was nothing he could do.” Her voice was strangely steady even though the pain was evident in it. Bobbie knew loss, knew pain, but she didn’t want to see Chrisjen deal with it. She’d do anything to take it away. “Kiki called me and said she misses me and she misses her father. She barely remembers who he was and I don’t think I did a good job keeping the memory alive.”

Chrisjen wiped a tear away that had rolled down her cheek. Bobbie just stood frozen. What could she do for a woman who had gone through that and was now reliving it, who had a little girl who had lost her parents and now relied on Chrisjen to raise her and Chrisjen was afraid she was failing her. “You know how people say that the pain doesn’t go away, over time you just make room for it? I did that immediately. I put it in a box because I had to work, I had to keep Runway at its usual standard. I only allow myself to feel it a few times a year. That’s my choice, but it’s not fair to Kiki. She deserves better. Arjun was always the better parent. If he weren’t travelling so much, he would have been her guardian.”

Bobbie couldn’t stop herself any longer. She closed the distance between them and sat down beside Chrisjen on her bed. She didn’t think she could do anything for her, but she wanted to let her know she was here for her. She held out her hand and after a moment, Chrisjen took it. For the first time, it felt cold and Bobbie covered it with her other hand.

“Despite everything you are and do, you’re still human. You’re allowed to be fallible. I know how much you care about Kiki, how much you do for her. I think she’s lucky to have you.” Chrisjen’s chin wobbled a little as she tried to contain her emotions. Bobbie had meant every word of it. Chrisjen wasn’t an easy woman or even kind most of the time, but she had her flaws and weaknesses like everybody else and she deserved comfort like everybody else.

Chrisjen cleared her throat and after giving Bobbie’s hand a thankful squeeze, she pulled it away. She still looked vulnerable, but less like she was going to fall apart. She ran a hand through her hair and pulled the robe tighter around her body. “So tomorrow, during the luncheon, Jules-Pierre has said he wanted to make some announcement, which I am sure will be the highlight of my year. He’s going to video-call in and Sadavir will also speak. Make sure he isn’t at my table.”

“Of course. Anything else?” Chrisjen had already given her extended opinion about Mao wanting time during Runway’s luncheon, especially through a video-call or her hatred for Sadavir being there. Tomorrow was going to be interesting, but at least Chrisjen sounded and looked more like herself again.

“Yes. Enjoy your evening off. Paris is a beautiful city, it suits you, so go and discover it.”

“Are you sure? I can stay if you need me.”

“I kept this evening clear for a reason. I’d prefer to be alone, but thank you. For everything.”

“Of course.”

Bobbie hadn’t made any plans on what to do, so just wandered through out Paris, taking the metro for the first time instead of the car. She felt like she was among normal people for the first time since she had arrived here and she felt like a tourist. Which was what she decided to be, going to the Eiffel Tower, the Champs-Elysées, the Notre-Dame, everything she could fit into a limited amount of time, making sure to take pictures for her friends.

It really was a beautiful city, even if the metro, like every subway, smelled like urine, and the streets were too crowded. She made sure to go to the tiny bookstore next to the Notre-Dame which Naomi had recommended and got dinner at a falafel place that Alex had insisted she’d go to. She saw it all and yet, it somehow barely managed to reach her. Yes, it was beautiful, but heart wasn’t really in it.

She kept seeing Chrisjen, allowing herself to feel the grief of losing her son. She wondered how many people had actually seen that. She had seen Chrisjen sad and disappointed when she hadn’t been able to return from Miami for Kiki, but this was something else, something so much more raw and worse. Bobbie took a deep shuddering breath as she looked at the women gathering in front of the bar she had wanted to visit before she had seen Chrisjen like that. A lesbian bar that other than women, only allowed men if they were gay or with their girlfriend.

But she found that she had no motivation to go to it now. Her French was woefully lacking anyway. She found herself walking along the Seine instead, eating a crêpe Nutella, being every romantic movie’s cliché of a girl dealing with heartbreak or overwhelming emotions. She kind of hated herself for it and she hated how much Chrisjen got to her, how much she wanted to take care of her, make sure she was happy.

She walked across the Pont des Arts, torturing herself by looking at all the locks attached to it. She would never do anything like it herself, but it made her smile and feel a pang of sadness whenever she spotted two female names written on a lock. She sat down on a bench and watched the people walk by. Stupid. She was being stupid, but for tonight, she allowed herself to be like this. Apparently life had other plans when her phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Bobbie?” Bobbie pulled the phone away from her ear and looked at it. What the fuck?

“Holden? How did you get my number?”

“Miller had it on file. It doesn’t matter. Lately I’ve been digging into Mao with his daughter.” Bobbie frowned, wondering what the hell he was on about. Why did this matter to her? Why was he calling her at half past midnight? A second later she realized it was hours earlier in New York, but even so, this was strange at best.

“Okay?”

“The guy is a white collar criminal, but so far he has managed to get away with it. I’m trying to stop that, but while I was digging into his files and emails, Bobbie, he’s planning on ousting Chrisjen at the luncheon tomorrow.” Bobbie felt her heart drop in her stomach. Mao was planning to do what now? He couldn’t, could he? Runway was Chrisjen’s life. He couldn’t take that away from her, not here, not now. The image of Chrisjen sitting on her bed flashed through her mind.

“What?” she managed weakly.

“He has managed to bribe enough board members. Her replacement will be there tomorrow.”

“Sadavir.” Of course, it would be that slimy looking asshole. He had it all planned. Videocall in to drop a bomb and Sadavir would be all ready to hold his ‘I’m so grateful for this opportunity’ speech. “He can’t do that. It won’t be Runway without her.”

“I don’t know if it can be stopped, but I figured you would be able to get the message to Chrisjen.” Oh god. She was going to have to tell Chrisjen. She was going to have to tell her that she’d be out of a job after lunch tomorrow. Fuck. How on earth was she supposed to tell her that after what she had seen tonight?

“Why do you want to help her?” Holden seemed like a decent guy, but he also didn’t seem like the type to care about a woman like Chrisjen effectively being fired. He was a do-gooder, but Chrisjen wasn’t anything like the people he usually tried to help.

“Because Julie trusts her. She hates her, but she said that Chrisjen is the only woman to not put up with her father’s bullshit.” That didn’t seem like enough motivation, but Bobbie wasn’t going to question it. He had dropped a huge bomb on her, but she was grateful that he had. If she had found out when Mao had wanted her to find, during that luncheon, it would have been terrible. That kind of public humiliation, she wouldn’t wish that on most people and definitely not on Chrisjen.

“Thank you.”

“Wish I could have done more.” So did Bobbie. Where she had been feeling melancholy before, now she felt like she needed to do something and she needed to do something now. But it would take her at least thirty minutes to get back to the hotel. It would be late. And this had been the one night Chrisjen had carved out to remember her son, to grieve. She couldn’t just barge in on her, disturb her sleep and casually mention what Mao was planning.

Shit.

She’d get up early tomorrow and tell her then. And she hoped that Chrisjen could do anything to keep her job. The woman seemed an unstoppable force, but she wasn’t omnipotent.


	10. Chapter 10

Bobbie stood in front of the door to Chrisjen’s suite, the keycard in her hand. Chrisjen wasn’t expecting her this early. Hell, she hadn’t even dressed herself properly. It was just jeans and shirt and the hotel slippers. She tucked the keycard away and instead knocked on the door and when Chrisjen didn’t answer fast enough, she knocked again, a little harder this time. The door flew open and the annoyed expression on Chrisjen’s face disappeared when she saw her.

“Bobbie? What are you doing here? It’s 7 am.” It showed. Chrisjen was wearing the same robe as last night, but it wasn’t belted closed this time, giving Bobbie a good look at the silk nightgown she was wearing, but even scalloped lace and the fact that she was clearly not wearing bra could distract Bobbie from what she was here to do.

“I have to talk to you.” Chrisjen jerked her head and stepped aside to let Bobbie into her suite.

“Now what is so fucking important that you’re banging on my door at the crack of dawn?” Chrisjen asked as she crossed her arms. Bobbie swallowed and her mouth suddenly felt dry. This was harder than she had imagined. She had to do it like a band-aid, just rip it off. Chrisjen didn’t like people not getting immediately to the point anyway.

“It’s Mao, he’s going to oust you at the luncheon and put Sadavir in your place.” That had been quick and to the point and probably a little harsh. Bobbie held her breath for Chrisjen’s reaction.

“I see.” What? That was it? No cursing, no outrage, no immediately jumping into action. There was nothing. Her face didn’t betray anything except maybe the slightest hint of the surprise. Of all the reactions Bobbie had thought she could get, no reaction hadn’t been one of them. Was it shock? Had Bobbie’s words not quite landed yet?

“Holden called me because Mao’s daughter wanted you to know. I know it’s early but I wanted to give you enough time to fight it if you can,” Bobbie added. She just needed Chrisjen to say more than ‘I see’. She wanted to know she would do anything to keep her job and fight that fucker Mao.

“Thank you. Go get dressed and I’ll see you in an hour.” Bobbie’s mouth fell open. How was she so calm? What was happening?

“But –”

Chrisjen held up a hand, effectively cutting Bobbie off. “I will handle this.”

The sound of the door closing behind her felt like a slap. What the fuck had just happened? She had told Chrisjen, the woman who lived and breathed Runway, that she was going to lose it all and she hadn’t given her anything. She hadn’t appeared to be in shock. She had seemed calm, normal, as if she had told her tea was ready.

Thoroughly confused Bobbie returned to her room and got dressed for the day. She wondered if she should tell Cotyar. Maybe he could talk to Chrisjen as well, but she doubted he could change anything. Fuck. She needed Chrisjen to not lose her job. It was on her mind the entire time, even when she applied her makeup and absentmindedly checked the schedule as she ate breakfast. She could picture Mao and punching him in the face. Too bad he was in New York. Or maybe that was for the best. Hitting him wouldn’t help the situation any, but it would make her feel better.

When she returned to Chrisjen’s suite, it was like her conversation had never happened. Chrisjen was dressed, impeccably, as usual, and she talked about the seating arrangement at the luncheon and how difficult some designers were about being at the same table. Bobbie couldn’t believe that she was just going on, business as usual. As if she wasn’t going to lose Runway in about six hours.

But they had a show to go to first and Bobbie wanted to talk to Chrisjen again, but she somehow managed to spend the entire ride on the phone, speaking in rapid French. Bobbie didn’t understand a word of it, but she knew Chrisjen’s voice sounded even better in the melodic language. It wasn’t enough to distract her from what was going to happen later that day. She kept looking at her watch, counting the hours.

The show was great. It wasn’t just models, but actresses that Bobbie would have been excited to see, especially on a runway positioned in the middle of the Champs-Elysées with the Arc de Triomphe as a backdrop, but she barely saw them. The luncheon was at one thirty and time was ticking away. She kept staring at the back of Chrisjen head as if it would make her turn around and tell Bobbie that everything was going to be okay.

It felt like waiting for the inevitable, for an enemy to attack, except now she knew where and what time the ambush was going to happen and it was so much worse to just wait. She wasn’t good at waiting, she was more a person of action, make a move before the other person could. She didn’t take a defeat lying down and she thought Chrisjen wouldn’t either. Apparently she had been wrong.

Chrisjen had sent her and the rest of the Runway employees ahead to the venue to make sure everything was in order. Bobbie was walking around the tables, switching out name cards to make sure the last minute changes to the seating arrangement were put into effect. She messed up twice due to being so distracted.

“What is going on with you? It’s like you’re waiting for disaster to strike,” Cotyar asked after he had seen her check the time about twenty times in one minute and she kept looking at the door. She was exuding nervousness, unable to keep it contained.

“It might.”

“What does that mean?” Telling him now wouldn’t do any good other than distracting him from doing his job.

“It just means I think something bad might happen to Chrisjen at the luncheon and I don’t know how to stop it.”

“She’s a big girl. She can take care of herself.” She could and she usually did, but Bobbie had seen no sign of that today and that was worried her. That worry continued as the guest started to arrive, she spotted Sadavir and couldn’t stop glaring at him.

When Chrisjen arrived, Bobbie felt her nerves increase tenfold. She looked gorgeous, a different outfit from this morning. It was such a deep purple, it was almost black, gold jewelry glittering on her neck and wrists. She wore an easy smile as if she was looking forward to this. Bobbie wanted to run, get out before she had to watch Mao hurt the woman she was in love with in front of audience. She forced herself to stay. She had been there during the fake ricin, she had comforted her yesterday, she was going to be there for her now.

She wasn’t seated at Chrisjen’s table which was filled with designers who had shown a collection at the Paris Fashion week for the first time, but she could see Chrisjen. She’d be able to keep an eye on her. She didn’t know anybody at her table which was fine, because she wasn’t in a mood for conversation anyway. Mao was scheduled to call in at ten to two.

At a quarter to two, Errinwright made his way over the stage. Bobbie wondered if she could get away with tackling him. Probably not. Bobbie kept her eye on Chrisjen as Errinwright made some generic speech about how inspired he was by what he had seen this year and how he was glad that there seemed to be more and more shows with male fashion. It was all very dull and very predictable. Bobbie didn’t start paying attention until she heard the words ‘my dear friend, Jules-Pierre Mao.’

For a moment Bobbie hoped the internet connection would fail. It wouldn’t stop what was about to happen, but it would postpone it to a moment where it wouldn’t be quite so public. Sadly, Jules-Pierre Mao’s face appeared on the big screen. He looked very pleased with himself before he had even said a word. Douchebag.

“Good morning, or I suppose I should say bon après-midi. I am so glad that we are once again able to host the Runway Paris Fashion week luncheon. I love a good tradition and putting new designers in the spotlight is one of them. Thank you for adding to this age old world and changing it for the better. Because as much as I believe in tradition, I’m a bigger believer in change and change for the better. If something stays the same for too long, it gets stale. I am always looking for the next best thing.”

Here it came. She couldn’t believe he had indirectly called Chrisjen stale. She had been responsible to launching some of the biggest fashion trends since she had taken the reins of Runway and she was still on top of her game. Bobbie looked away from the screen. She couldn’t stand to look at his smug face or Errinwright’s. Chrisjen seemed normal, no tension in her shoulders, no fear in her eyes. She was just listening to the speech.

Bobbie whipped her head around when Mao stopped talking and she could make out the sounds she had only ever heard on television shows. “NYPD, we have warrant for your arrest.”

What the fuck was happening?

Mao was shocked and outraged as the NYPD burst into his office and handcuffed him, telling him he was being arrested for the attempted murder of Chrisjen Avasarala and Roberta Draper. Bobbie thought her heart was going to beat its way out of her chest. Mao had been behind the ricin letter? She turned back towards Chrisjen. She wasn’t smiling, but she looked victorious. She had known. Of course she had known.

Bobbie had been stressing out since last night and Chrisjen must have known that Mao was coming for her job and made sure he was arrested before he could make it a reality. She wondered how long she had known Mao was behind that letter. It had to have been longer than a day. It was a masterful move, albeit terrifying that she had planned this without letting people know, that she had been willing to withhold information until it was useful to her.

Bobbie hadn’t even noticed that guests had become slightly rowdy until the screen went black, a moment after Mao was being led out of his office. Errinwright seemed nailed to the floor, unable to believe what he had just seen. Amidst the chaos, Chrisjen got up and straightened her dress, walking towards the stage, champagne glass in hand. She was so calm, so prepared for this. She stepped behind the microphone and suddenly the sound died down.

“Thank you Sadavir. I apologize for what just happened. This is supposed to be a pleasant lunch where we could talk with friends and colleagues, discuss everything we’ve seen so far and celebrate the designers. It must have been shocking to see.” Errinwright slinked off the stage and disappeared out of side door while Chrisjen talked. Coward. If Chrisjen had noticed she didn’t care. She looked like a woman who had won the game.

“But while I am up here, I would like to thank everyone for joining us. We shouldn’t let an incident like that ruin this event, because outside of the fashion shows, this has always been a highlight of Fashion week for me. Runway wouldn’t exist without all the hard work you put in. So, I want to propose a toast to all of you.” What a fucking ballsy move and to Bobbie’s surprise, everybody raised their glass. Bobbie joined, if only not to stand out. Chrisjen looked straight at her, a smile playing on lips. “To traditions and changes.”

Everybody echoed her words, but Bobbie found that she couldn’t. Chrisjen never broke eye contact even as she took a sip. Having Mao arrested had been a cold, calculated move. He had tried to publicly humiliate her and she had one-upped him. Both sides had fought dirty and Chrisjen had won. She should dislike her for pulling a move like that. She hated that kind of underhanded, sneaky bullshit. But all she felt was relief that it was over. She nodded at Chrisjen and took a sip as well.

Bobbie spent the rest of the luncheon in a daze, listening to the conversations around her that at first were all about Mao and then slowly passed into something more pleasant, about clothes and gossip. She joined eventually, grateful that she had introduced herself as Bobbie and not as Roberta, so none of them knew she was the other one mentioned in the attempted murder charge. She would never have heard the end of it otherwise.

She was glad when lunch was over, Chrisjen sought her out to go to the car. She was desperate for some privacy to talk about had just happened. She was pretty sure her head was still spinning from it all. Cotyar looked at her with wide eyes, also completely shocked by what had just happened. She shrugged at him and followed Chrisjen to the car. She had so many things she wanted to ask her, wanted to know, but when she closed the door and they drove off, only one thing came to mind.

“How long did you know what he was planning to do?”

“Since before the Gala. Men aren’t as good at plotting to take women down as they think they are, especially those with a giant ego who think an attempted murder will get my to step away from Runway.” The Gala, that had been weeks ago. She had been planning this since then? How? The whole ricin incident hadn’t happened yet. And Mao being arrested was great and all, but if the board had voted to get rid of Chrisjen, that vote still stood. At least, Bobbie thought so. She wasn’t really up to date on how boards of massive corporations worked.

“But if he has the board members behind him, how does Mao being arrested stop the fact that Errinwright will replace you?” It would be a shame if she had gone through all this trouble, had somehow set Mao up to be arrested during the luncheon, only to return to New York to find out Runway was still being taken away from her.

“Because he is also being charged with tax fraud and insider trading. So will Errinwright if he sets foot on American soil again. A few of the board members would have been as well, if they had been fucking stupid enough to sign off on my removal. Mao jumped the gun. It hadn’t been made official yet. He just wanted to publicly take me down.” So Chrisjen hadn’t just gone in for the kill, she had made it a slaughter. It was almost a shame she hadn’t gone into politics. With the way she had manipulated the situation, pulled the strings, and played her cards just right, she would beat most politicians at their own game.

It wasn’t Bobbie’s way of dealing with a hostile situation. She preferred to just confront it whether that meant a shouting match or punch to the face. But that wasn’t Chrisjen’s style. She wasn’t a fan of the sneakiness and the leverage. The outcome however she agreed with and she respected how effective it had been. “And now?”

“Now Mao-Kwikowski will need new leadership and a new direction to take the company in. And those motherfuckers won’t do anything without my approval now.” So she was basically in charge of Mao-Kwikowski without having the title. Bobbie was impressed, she thought. She wasn’t entirely sure. She didn’t care about power. She cared about Chrisjen and she had had all this information for such a long time and she never shared it. She was still trying to wrap her mind around it.

“You knew about it all, the ricin, the power grab, you had all of this planned and you didn’t tell me.” It wasn’t that Chrisjen owed her, but Bobbie still felt hurt that Chrisjen had kept her out of the loop. After all, she had been there as well, thinking they were going to die from the ricin. Chrisjen moved closer to her, placing a hand on Bobbie’s thigh. Her hand wasn’t cold anymore like it had been yesterday.

“I didn’t. I don’t want to involve you in the dirty games I need to play to do and keep my job. But when you appeared on my doorstep this morning, so desperate to help me, I wanted to tell you. You know what Runway means to me and you wanted me to fight for it. You wanted to fight for it.”

“I just couldn’t let them do that you.” Bobbie looked away from Chrisjen, at the hand on her thigh, the gold nails against the dark grey fabric of her pants. She didn’t want Chrisjen to see why she couldn’t let them do that to her. It would be written all over her face.

“Bobbie, look at me.” Chrisjen placed her fingers under Bobbie’s chin, tilting her head up. It was such an intimate gesture. It took Bobbie’s breath away, even more so when Chrisjen was suddenly a lot closer to her. Chrisjen eyes flicked down for the briefest of moments, as if she were looking at Bobbie’s mouth before she focused back on Bobbie’s eyes. “After Paris, I need to let you go.”

“What?! Why?” She didn’t understand. She hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact it seemed like she had done everything right. And Chrisjen was firing her? It didn’t make any sense. Chrisjen smiled, only adding to Bobbie’s confusion.

And then Chrisjen’s hand went from her chin to the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Her brain exploded in a cacophony of sounds, alarm bells, voices shouting at her what the fuck was going on. She was pretty sure she was screaming internally. It all came to an immediate stop the second Chrisjen’s lips touched hers. Everything went quiet and she had all her attention on what was happening, what she was feeling.

Chrisjen had kissed her. Chrisjen was kissing her. She had said she was going to fire her and now she was kissing her. Her lips were so impossibly soft against her own, her touch gentle, but sure. Bobbie didn’t know how much time had passed. It felt like an eternity, but it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but finally her brain jumpstarted and she kissed Chrisjen back, putting a hand on her waist and squeezing just a little to see if this was real or if she was going to disappear and this had all been a dream.

But Chrisjen didn’t disappear. She made a soft, pleased sound and lightly scraped her nails over the back of Bobbie’s neck. She was kissing Chrisjen. She had thought about it, fantasized about. It had invaded her dreams and it all paled in comparison to the real thing. All too soon, Chrisjen pulled back and smiled, staying close to Bobbie.

“That’s why. I can’t go around kissing my assistant, but I really want to do that again.” Bobbie was speechless. She couldn’t add it all up in her mind. Chrisjen was firing her because she wanted to kiss her again. Chrisjen wanted to kiss her more. Chrisjen wanted her. But how? And why?

“But you’re straight,” she said lamely and she could hit herself for having that leave her mouth. The woman she had wanted for months had kissed her, making her wildest dream come true. And she said she was straight. What was wrong with her? Chrisjen’s smile widened and it lit up her whole face. Bobbie still couldn’t believe they had kissed, but the slight tingle in her lips and a hint of her own lipstick on Chrisjen’s lips told her it was true

“I love that that’s the first thing you say. I’m not straight. I’ve dated women. Remember when Kiki told you about the dark-eyed woman who brought the Book up? That wasn’t Drummer. It was Nancy, a woman I was seeing, and there have been others. I’ve never been straight.” Chrisjen wasn’t straight. Bobbie wondered how she had managed to keep that under wraps. It took her a moment to realize that paparazzi were stupid. A man and a woman having dinner together were dating, two women together, they were friends or colleagues. Chrisjen had been dating women and somehow it had never become public.

The name Nancy rang a bell, if she meant Nancy Gao, the woman who currently ran Runway China, but had spent time in New York about a year and a half ago to learn about American Fashion up close. She wore dramatic makeup as well. So Chrisjen dated women like that. Beautiful, ambitious, knew everything about fashion. Compared to her, what did Chrisjen see in her? She was her second assistant, just trying to make it all work so she could become a journalist.

“Why me?” It seemed like a valid question. Chrisjen was powerful, famous, she ran the most well-known fashion magazine in the world. What could she see in a woman like her? Chrisjen’s expression turned a little more serious as she tucked a lock of hair behind Bobbie’s ear.

“Because you’re beautiful, strong, stubborn, smart. You know what you want, you’re not afraid to speak your mind and you’re very fucking unsubtle about the fact that you’re attracted to me.”

“More than attracted,” Bobbie muttered. It had been a long process, but head over heels in love was more accurate. The fact Chrisjen knew, had known for all this time, it was more than a little embarrassing. She had hoped that she had managed to hide while being near Chrisjen. Apparently she had been very wrong.

“Me too. I can just hide it better.”

“You hide it extremely well.” Bobbie had never picked up on the fact that Chrisjen was attracted to her, let alone more than that, but she had also never been good at realizing people liked her and Chrisjen couldn’t just go around showing she had feelings for an employee. But still. She wished she had picked up on it.

“Not that well. But Bobbie, by my estimate, we will arrive in about five minutes. It’s really fucking selfish of me, but I don’t want to spend that time talking.” Her voice had become lower and it was crystal clear what she meant. Now that Chrisjen had given in to what she wanted, she wanted more. Bobbie had to agree. She still couldn’t quite believe that this was happening, but she was more than willing to kiss Chrisjen again to convince her brain that this was real.

“Me neither.” This time when Chrisjen leaned in to kiss her again, Bobbie met her halfway. She pulled her as close as possible without actually pulling her onto her lap. This time she was prepared for it to happen, so this time she could enjoy it more, she could give more. She deepened the kiss and felt Chrisjen’s smile. And oh god. That first kiss had blown her mind. This was one was making her glad she was already sitting down. Her knees were weak, her heart was beating so fast.

She could vaguely taste the tea Chrisjen had had at the end of the lunch on her tongue. Her toes were curling in her far too expensive shoes and she had to restrain herself from letting her hands wander over Chrisjen’s body or she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop once they got to the next event. She was already be turned on beyond belief, because Chrisjen, unsurprisingly, was an incredible kisser. Bobbie was sure she had never been kissed like that.

All too soon, Chrisjen pulled back. Her pupils were blown wide, her lipstick was a mess and she was breathing fast. At least Bobbie wouldn’t be the only one who was turned on walking into the next event. Chrisjen chuckled and wiped her thumb just under Bobbie’s bottom lip. It came away dark red. “We have thoroughly ruined both of our lipsticks.”

“I know. Hold on.” With an enormous amount of regret, she removed her hand from Chrisjen’s waist and picked up her purse, fishing out a pack of makeup wipes and offering it to Chrisjen who gratefully took one. They both spent some time wiping away their ruined lipstick and applying a fresh coat. It was almost like it had never happened. But the light feeling in her chest, the sense of happiness and euphoria she felt, that was real. “What happens next?”

“Now we go back to work, cater to the masses. And tonight, we will talk.”

* * *

“You! What the hell happened?” Cotyar hissed as they stood backstage at a fashion show. Chrisjen was talking to the designer and a few models, so they had kept their distance. The whole socializing, constantly smiling and talking to people, it got tiring and after what had happened in the car, Bobbie hadn’t been able to focus on a single thing. She kept looking at Chrisjen and feeling those kisses, reliving the moment where Chrisjen had decided to cross the line and give in to her feelings.

“What do you mean?”

“You were nervous going up to the luncheon and then that shitshow with Mao happened, which good riddance. But I don’t mean that. You! You look happy. The difference between this morning and now couldn’t be bigger and I know it wasn’t Mao’s arrest.” This morning felt like years ago. The luncheon felt like years ago. Time had sort of lost all meaning the moment Chrisjen had kissed her and she knew she hadn’t done a good job of hiding how happy she felt ever since that had happened.

“What are you even on about?” It was a weak attempt to deflect him, but this didn’t seem like the best place to discuss this. Anyone could hear them. Cotyar narrowed his eyes for a moment, scrutinizing her and his expression became one of realization.

“Oh my god. Chrisjen, she finally did it. You have been mooning over her for far too long and I swear if I had to deal with her looking at you like that for one more day, I would have locked you two in a closet.” Wait. Chrisjen had been looking at her? Looking at her like what? Had she done it behind Bobbie’s back or had Bobbie just never noticed it? Cotyar had and the asshole had never even told her. All those times he had teased her about her crush and he had never said Chrisjen might return her feelings.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Cotyar crossed his arm in front of his chest.

“I know what freshly applied lipstick looks like and your lines aren’t as neat as they were. I’m willing to bet there are two makeup wipes in your purse right now with a nice mix of her Chanel Red and your Mac’s Sin.” Bobbie widened her eyes and quickly looked around to see if anyone had overheard them or was pretending to not listen, but people appeared to be engrossed in their own conversations.

“Will you keep it quiet?” Cotyar grinned at her discomfort.

“Oh right, wouldn’t want the crème de la crème of the fashion world to know that the dragon lady was kissing her second assistant in the car.” He had lowered his voice, but he had still said it, in a very, very public place. She reached out and grabbed his wrist, making her grip uncomfortably tight. He didn’t even flinch.

“I will hurt you in ways you cannot even imagine.” She wasn’t sure what she would do to him, but she would make it last and if she didn’t then Chrisjen would. Cotyar rolled his eyes and gestured his surrender with her free hand. Bobbie released his wrist, but wasn’t pleased about it.

“Just teasing. I’m happy for you. This…it looks good on you.” She was still annoyed with him, but she managed a smile anyway. Cotyar was a pain in her ass at times, but he was also her friend and it was nice that he supported her in this, even that support at first had felt like mild torture.

“Thank you. Now shush.” To her surprise, he actually did. He didn’t bring up what had happened between her and Chrisjen for the rest of the day. He was genuinely helpful, talking to her to keep her distracted from the fact that she wanted nothing more than to kiss Chrisjen again. That didn’t mean she could keep the smile from her face every time she looked at her. Even Chrisjen who had her editor in chief mask firmly back in place couldn’t help but give her a soft look every once in a while.

Where the morning had gone by too fast, the rest of the day seemed to crawl by as if to personally pick on Bobbie. The dinner that was planned for that night went on and on, but when Chrisjen decided it was time to leave it was only nine o’clock. To Bobbie it had felt like midnight. Sadly, Chrisjen still had a private meeting, so she was sent back to the hotel with Cotyar, not having another make out session in the car.

Back in her hotel room, she spent most of her time lying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, replaying what had happened in the car with a goofy grin on her face. There was probably a lot she and Chrisjen had to figure out if they wanted to go beyond kissing in a car, but it didn’t matter. What she had wanted for so long had happened and it seriously seemed like Chrisjen wanted this to be more than a clandestine kiss, more than an affair, though Bobbie would take that, for a while anyway.

She jumped up when her phone alerted of a text message. ‘I’m back’. Bobbie was out the door so fast, she forgot to put on her shoes or slippers. Barefoot and feeling ridiculously bouncy, she opened the door to Chrisjen’s suite. Chrisjen was in the process of taking off her heels and greeted Bobbie with smile. “That was fast.”

“I may have run up the stairs. I still can’t believe today happened.” She could and she couldn’t at the same time. Seeing Chrisjen again in a private setting made it a little harder to imagine they had kissed. Chrisjen approached her, raised herself up on her toes and kissed her, slowly, as if she wanted to commit every detail of it to memory. She cupped Chrisjen’s jaw, holding her close, drawing this out for as long as she could before Chrisjen pulled back. At least this time they had both had the foresight to remove their lipstick.

“Does that convince you?” Chrisjen asked with a raised eyebrow. Bobbie licked her lips and brushed her thumb over Chrisjen’s cheekbone. The hands on her hips tightened their grip.

“Hmm, I don’t know. Do it again.” Chrisjen chuckled and kissed her again, her hands moving to Bobbie’s back, moving closer until there was no space left between them. The length of Chrisjen’s body was pressed against her own, her tongue was in her mouth and Bobbie didn’t ever want to stop doing this. Chrisjen’s hands moved lower, teasing against the waistband of her pants as if she wanted to take them off or slip her hands inside and feel more.

Bobbie wanted nothing more than to push Chrisjen up against a wall and take this dress off her. She wanted to find out what Chrisjen’s weak spots were, what made her shiver and weak in the knees. She felt a pang of disappointment when Chrisjen pulled back, slightly out of breath.

“We should stop before we can’t anymore. Let’s talk.” Bobbie pouted. Going further was exactly what she had in mind. She wanted to get her hands on Chrisjen, undress her, taste her skin, make her moan and writhe. She wanted to make her come undone. But she supposed Chrisjen was right. They did need to talk, though in her opinion they could do that after. Chrisjen guided her to the sofa and Bobbie really had to stop herself from kissing her again.

“This still doesn’t feel real,” she blurted out. “I have been thinking about this for so long and I never imagined it would ever happen. I even dreamt about this. Aaand I probably shouldn’t have said that.”

Admitting she had been dreaming about her, it probably sounded more than a little creepy even if it was the truth, but Chrisjen didn’t appear to care. The opposite in fact if her smile was anything to go by. “No, it’s fine. Like I said, you weren’t subtle and I have thought about this, about you as well.”

“You have?”

“Longer than is appropriate for a boss to do. And before you ask, yes, those damn boots can be held partially responsible.” Bobbie made a mental note to thank Cotyar. It wouldn’t surprise her in the slightest if that had been what he was after. He had joked about it, but now she was beginning to think he had been serious. She was going to have to see if those boots were still in the Closet so she could surprise Chrisjen with them.

“What do we do now?” Chrisjen took a deep breath, almost if to prepare herself.

“We can’t be together while you’re working for me. I may currently have the board’s balls in a jar on my desk, but being caught with my assistant would loosen the lid.” Bobbie blinked, trying to get rid of that horrifying mental image, but she got the point. Even if this whole Mao business hadn’t happened, Chrisjen couldn’t just start dating or have an affair her assistant. It was against company policy and it would give the people who disliked her something to use against her. Chrisjen was still a woman and a woman of color at the top of her game. The smallest thing would allow people to undermine her. And even though Bobbie hated waiting, she’d be able to do it for her.

“So after Paris?”

“When we get back, you should tender your resignation and you should start applying for jobs. You haven’t finished a full year, but I will give you a letter of recommendation. If I fire you, it will be fucking difficult to find a job in publishing and I don’t want to do that to you. I meant what I said, you have promise. You’ll find something to your liking.” Chrisjen had thought this all out. It made Bobbie wonder if she had just come up with this today or if she had been thinking about this longer, figuring out a way to make this happen.

She’d quit when they returned from Paris, which would mean spending two weeks still working for Chrisjen without being able to be with her. It was going to be a long two weeks, seeing her every day, knowing how she kissed, how her body felt against her own, not being to do anything, but be her second assistant. But it was two weeks after which she would get to…what exactly?

“And after those two weeks?”

“I’m going to sound like a fucking cliché, but I want to get to know you. Take you out to dinner, spend time with you when you’re not my employee, eventually show you off at events if we get that far.” That sounded like dating, like wanting an actual relationship. Bobbie had been a little bit scared Chrisjen would want to keep her a secret or wanted an affair. But she wanted something real. Bobbie knew she would go along with whatever Chrisjen wanted, she was in too deep, but being her dirty little secret, she wouldn’t be able to deal with that for long. It felt good to know that Chrisjen wanted something real and public.

“Have sex?” Chrisjen laughed and Bobbie realized it was the first time she had heard her laugh. A real laugh that sounded absolutely joyous and beautiful.

“Yes, have sex.” Okay good, because Bobbie really wanted to do that and she was going to have to wait at least two weeks to have that. She could do that. It would mean spending some time with her vibrator to take the edge of, especially since she was going to spend those two weeks working for Chrisjen. But she could hold off. She thought so anyway. Chrisjen was really beautiful and an excellent kisser.

“And during those two weeks, we can’t do anything?” It couldn’t hurt to ask. Maybe there could be secret kisses. She wouldn’t mind being a secret for a little while. Chrisjen shook her head.

“We shouldn’t. I will have the press on my ass when we get back to New York.” It seemed like it pained her as much as it did Bobbie.

“Can I kiss you again? There’s no one here to catch us now.” Chrisjen looked as if she was going to turn her down, but her eyes moved from Bobbie’s eyes to her lips and Bobbie could see the exact moment she changed her mind. She barely caught the soft ‘fuck it’ before Chrisjen closed the distance between them and captured Bobbie’s lips in a searing kiss. She was practically on Bobbie and she had managed to catch her off guard with her intensity. Clearly she wanted her as badly as Bobbie did.

A moment later, Chrisjen was moving until she was straddling Bobbie’s thighs, her hands on the back of Bobbie’s neck. It was suddenly very heated and Bobbie had no idea if she would be able to stop before things went too far, but Bobbie was going to take whatever she could. She put her hands on Chrisjen’s hips and softly bit Chrisjen’s bottom lip, getting a soft moan in return. Bobbie pressed her thighs together at the sound. It was incredibly hot.

“Fuck,” Chrisjen whispered, giving Bobbie the chance to fasten her lips to her throat, kissing her way up to her jaw. Chrisjen gasped and tilted her head to give Bobbie more access. She sounded breathless when she spoke again. “Fine, we can kiss in Paris.”

“Just kiss?” Bobbie muttered against her skin as she moved her hands to Chrisjen’s thighs. Her dress had been pushed up when she had moved onto Bobbie’s laps and Bobbie’s fingers skimmed over the lace edge of her thigh-highs. Jesus. Of course she wore those. She needed to take that dress off to see what was underneath, but Chrisjen grabbed her wrists and pinned her hands up to the back of the sofa.

“Yes, just kiss.” Chrisjen looked flushed, turned on, her voice had taken on a breathy tone. She was struggling just as much as Bobbie, but right now, she had more willpower to put a stop to it.

“You’re the one who climbed into my lap,” Bobbie pointed out. In fact she was still there, thighs pressed against Bobbie’s hips. Chrisjen released Bobbie’s wrists and climbed off her, pushing her dress down until the edge of her thigh-highs was covered again, but the fabric was rumpled in a way that would let everyone know exactly what they had been doing. Good thing it was the end of the day then. Chrisjen ran her fingers through her hair.

“We can control ourselves. I will see you tomorrow.” Bobbie wanted to ask her for a goodnight kiss, but decided not to push her luck. Her legs were a little shaky when she stood up, a testament to the effect Chrisjen had on her. God, she wanted her. But not now. She could respect her wishes, even if it was incredibly hard to walk out of her suite.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's heeeeeere.

They had three full days left in Paris. Bobbie was Chrisjen second assistant by day and when they returned to the hotel, to Chrisjen’s suite, they quickly went over the schedule for the next day and then their work personas dropped. It was just them, talking about little things, personal things, like Bobbie’s friends or Chrisjen’s other granddaughter. Just things to get to know each other better, before they spent the rest of the time kissing, feeling each other up until it got too heated and they regretfully ended it.

It was their last day in Paris when Bobbie decided that she was going to throw caution into the wind. They weren’t going to be able to do this for two weeks. She wanted as much as she could get. They didn’t have anything planned for tomorrow except the flight back. They didn’t need to be at the top of their game, visiting fashion shows and events. A good night’s rest wasn’t needed. She was going to spend as much time as possible here tonight.

Chrisjen was practically underneath her by now, a tight grip on Bobbie’s blazer. Her skirt was halfway up her thighs and Bobbie was tracing where the hemline met her stocking while her other hand was covering Chrisjen’s breast, feeling the stiff nipple against her palm through the layers of fabric. They had never gotten this far on any of the other nights.

“We should stop,” Chrisjen breathed when Bobbie pulled back for a moment. Her normally perfect hair was now messy, her eyes looked a little glassy and Bobbie had never heard Chrisjen sound so unconvinced of her own words before.

“I don’t want to stop,” she confessed. She would if Chrisjen wanted her to. She’d get up, kiss her goodnight and leave and spend the next two weeks fantasizing about all the things she would do to Chrisjen once she had left Runway. She had spent months doing that before Paris, so she could do it for another two weeks, especially now that she knew it was going to come true.

“Me neither, but you’re still on my payroll.” Bobbie pressed her lips together in an effort not to laugh. Chrisjen was going with that excuse? They had already crossed the line of doing things that were acceptable to do as a boss and employee. Hell, they had crossed that line and cheerily waved goodbye to it. She had Chrisjen underneath her, for Christ’s sake.

“I promise not to file a sexual harassment complaint if you won’t either,” she tried, trying to keep it light without making it sound like Chrisjen had just given her a terribly weak excuse. She still had her hand on Chrisjen’s breast, could still feel her lips against her own. They had decided to kiss in Paris, but really even that was going too far. Maybe that could adopt Vegas’ rule for one night.

“Not the fucking point.” Chrisjen granted her with a spectacular eyeroll. Bobbie knew it wasn’t the fucking point, but she also knew they weren’t going to get caught here and she wanted this so badly and she knew Chrisjen did as well.

“I know, but I don’t want to wait. Do you?” This was it. If Chrisjen said she wanted her to stop, to leave, she would. But she really hoped she wouldn’t.

“Patience has never been my virtue. But I am not fucking you on this sofa when there is a perfectly good bed a few feet away.” Bobbie grinned and pressed a quick kiss to her lips before getting up and holding out her hand to help Chrisjen up. She looked disheveled, but also suddenly very eager to get to the bedroom. She’d have been happy to have sex with her anywhere, but a bed was by far the best option.

She was practically giddy with excitement as Chrisjen led her into the bedroom. She wanted to do so much she couldn’t choose, but as Chrisjen stood there before her, she knew what she wanted to start out with. “Can I undress you?”

“Of course. But you don’t have to ask permission for everything you want to do. I will let you know if I don’t like it.” Of course she would. Bobbie almost felt silly asking her, but she hadn’t just wanted to pull her clothes off like some teenage boy. She wanted to take her time taking off her clothes. Sure she had seen her half naked before, that image was burned into her memory, but it hadn’t been in a situation like this.

She started with unbuttoning her blouse, which turned out to have very finnicky buttons or maybe her fingers weren’t as steady as she would like them to be, but slowly the deep red fabric parted, revealing soft looking skin and a black lace bra. Carefully she pulled the fabric out of Chrisjen’s skirt and undid the last few buttons before sliding the fabric off her shoulders. She held on to the blouse, not wanting to just put it anywhere when Chrisjen grabbed it and threw it in a corner of the room.

Bobbie trailed her fingers over Chrisjen’s collarbones, down her chest until she reached the edge of her bra. She leaned in to kiss her and moved her hands to her back, seeking out the zipper of her skirt. Pulling away from the kiss, she tugged the skirt over Chrisjen’s hips and kneeled in front of her, guiding the fabric down her legs until Chrisjen could step out of it.

She was beautiful, she had already known that, but like this, she was stunning, taking her breath away. Bobbie placed a soft kiss on her stomach, just above her garter belt. Her skin was impossibly soft and she could feel the slight shudder that went through Chrisjen’s body. She looked up when Chrisjen’s hands landed on her shoulders, urging her up. “Get up from down there and kiss me.”

She pressed a soft kiss to the lace of one of her thigh-highs and got up only to have Chrisjen grab the lapels of her blazer and kiss her as if she was afraid Bobbie was going to change her mind and leave. This time when Bobbie put her hands on Chrisjen she just felt skin and lace. She let them wander, caressing her back, her ribs, only pulling away when Chrisjen started impatiently tugging on her blazer. Bobbie shrugged out of it and put her hands on Chrisjen’s ass, lifting her up from the floor.

“What the fuck are you doing?” She was holding on to Bobbie’s shoulders with a tight grip, looking almost offended that she had been picked up.

“Getting you to the bed.” She didn’t want to stand around and admire her. She wanted to get her in a bed and explore every inch of her body. She wanted to know everything about her. She lowered her onto the bed.

“I can walk,” Chrisjen grumbled, but then her eyes widened as Bobbie straightened up and got rid of her shirt and crawled on top of her.

“Not for long,” she promised and kissed her throat, letting her tongue flick out against the delicate skin. Chrisjen moaned and tilted her head back, all annoyance at being picked up forgotten. Bobbie reveled in the feeling of Chrisjen’s skin against her own. She was warm and soft and Bobbie was taking her time to kiss the faint freckles on her chest. Chrisjen had been right about herself, patience wasn’t one of her virtues. She was moving her hips, rolling against Bobbie’s stomach, the lace of thigh-highs faintly scratching against Bobbie’s waist.

Chrisjen could be impatient, but Bobbie had waited a long time for this and she was going to make it last. She kissed between her breasts, licking a path over her sternum, before kissing the swell of her breasts, soft, teasing kisses that were driving Chrisjen insane judging from the way she was arching towards Bobbie’s mouth, clutching her upper arms. Finally Bobbie pulled back enough to pop the front clasp of her bra open. “That’s handy.”

The lace fell away and Bobbie couldn’t help but stare. She had always been a breast woman. She loved every part of a woman’s body, but she loved those the most and like Amos had said, she knew Chrisjen had great tits, but seeing them now, without a bra, she lost the ability to think. Beautiful. And she needed to get her mouth on them. She kissed the inside of Chrisjen’s breasts, open-mouthed kisses where she licked her skin. Chrisjen was inhaling sharply, a hand buried in Bobbie’s hair.

“You’re teasing,” Chrisjen groaned. Bobbie grinned and kissed just below her nipple, cupping her breasts to push them closer together so she could switch easier, staying away from her nipples.

“Just taking my time.” She licked her finger and lightly touched Chrisjen’s nipple before blowing on it. It hardened even more and Chrisjen made a frustrated sound.

“Well, don’t.” Bobbie grinned and scraped her teeth over the underside of Chrisjen’s breast before looking Chrisjen in the eye and slowly dragging her tongue over her nipple. Chrisjen let out a chocked whimper and her head fell back against the pillows. Bobbie was going to damn well take her time if she wanted to. She sucked the nipple into her mouth, while rolling the other between her fingers. Chrisjen’s hips jerked hard against Bobbie’s stomach and she could feel the heat of her pussy through her underwear.

Sensitive. Good to know. She continued using her mouth on her nipples, switching between them, alternating between soft and hard. She noticed Chrisjen sounded a little more desperate, tightened her grip when she used more pressure, when she used her teeth and filed that away as something she could use later or in two weeks. Chrisjen started to push on her shoulders, trying to get her to move lower.

“Bobbie. Stop fucking around.” Definitely very impatient, but fine. She could have spent hours just doing that, but it was time she moved on. With a last, playful bite to her nipple, Bobbie shifted to kiss her way down Chrisjen’s torso, slowly making her way to the edge of her garter belt. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of her panties as she bit the slight swell of her stomach just below her belly button. Chrisjen raised her hips off the bed and Bobbie pulled the scrap of lace that served as underwear down her legs and threw it over her shoulder.

She settled between Chrisjen’s legs and the thought hit her that she was about to go down on Chrisjen Avasarala, her boss, the woman she had been in love with for a long time. A woman who set incredibly high standards and was a perfectionist. It was a little daunting to say the least, but she was fairly confident in her skills. She hadn’t had any complaints and she knew Chrisjen wanted this, wanted her.

She kissed the inside of her thigh, above the thigh-high Chrisjen was still wearing and for being pushy and basically herself, Bobbie pulled on the edge and snapped it back against Chrisjen’s skin. Chrisjen let out a soft yelp and glared down her body which wasn’t anything less impressive when she was practically naked. She’d make it up to her.

When she looked at Chrisjen, she saw she was already a little wet. Chrisjen was turned on and Bobbie was responsible for it. Chrisjen was still looking at her intently, anticipation in her eyes. Bobbie would hate to disappoint her. She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her clit. Chrisjen let out a frustrated huff and moved closer to Bobbie’s mouth. She was impatient, needy and all hers. She covered Chrisjen’s clit with her mouth.

“Oh fuck,” Chrisjen moaned and Bobbie had to agree. Fuck, she tasted good, amazing even. She groaned, needing more. She grabbed Chrisjen’s thighs and pulled her closer, eagerly moving her tongue against her, letting the sounds Chrisjen made wash over her. She was so vocal, unashamed in her desire, hand buried in Bobbie’s hair as her other one cupped her own breast, squeezing it.

It was so hot to watch, it momentarily distracted Bobbie from what she doing. She was just moving her tongue without focusing on it, entranced by the way Chrisjen moved. The woman was beautiful and sexy, but this? God, it was more than enough to fuel her fantasies for the next two weeks.

She returned her full attention to what she was doing, licking lower, teasing around her entrance where she tasted stronger, better. Chrisjen spread her legs wider, rolling her hips. Bobbie slid the tip off her tongue inside her, getting choked sound in return. Encouraged she pushed her tongue in a little deeper. The grip on her hair tightened, pushing against the back of her head. She liked this. Bobbie bobbed her head, fucking her with her tongue.

Chrisjen let out a needy whine when Bobbie moved her mouth up, back to her clit, licking it with long strokes. She felt a sharp tug on her hair and Chrisjen lifting her hips from the mattress, letting out another obscenity. “Inside. Put your fingers inside.”

She was demanding even in bed. Bobbie couldn’t even pretend to be surprised. She didn’t mind either, but she had a feeling Chrisjen was going to learn soon enough that she wasn’t always in charge, especially in bed. She pulled away for a moment to wet two of her fingers with a her tongue. Chrisjen’s lips parted as she watched Bobbie’s tongue curl around her fingers, as if she could still feel it on her pussy.

Resting her head against Chrisjen’s thigh, she watched as she slowly eased her fingers inside Chrisjen, giving her the time to get used to the feeling, stretching around them. She was so tight and hot, muscles fluttering. Chrisjen titled her head back, her mouth open, a low moan escaping from her throat as Bobbie pushed her fingers in to the knuckles. “Oh, fuck, yes, like that.”

Her voice had taken on a tone that Bobbie could feel travel down her spine and settle between her legs. She had to be incredibly wet by now and her pants and underwear felt restricting. She wanted them off, but more than that, she wanted to make Chrisjen come. She needed to know what she sounded like when she did, how her body moved.

She sucked Chrisjen’s clit into her mouth and moved her fingers, curling them up. Something akin to a cry left Chrisjen’s mouth and she slammed a hand against the headboard, using it as leverage to push towards Bobbie. She was close. She had to be. She was moving with Bobbie, groaning, muttering expletives with every swipe of her tongue, letting out a string of ‘yes, yes’ when Bobbie sucked harder, fucked her with her fingers.

She want to draw this out, to make it last as long as she could was overtaken by the need to make Chrisjen come. By now she knew what Chrisjen liked and she was going to give to her, her fingers buried deep inside Chrisjen’s pussy and her mouth firmly around her clit, sucking as her tongue moved against it. Chrisjen arched up from the bed, her grip on Bobbie’s hair almost painful, but that didn’t stop Bobbie. She continued until Chrisjen fell completely silent, every muscle in her body tight.

It lasted for a beat, then two and suddenly Chrisjen let out a harsh cry, her hips snapping up as she clenched hard around Bobbie’s fingers. Her orgasm seemed to take over her entire body and it was enthralling to witness. Bobbie didn’t lessen the intensity of her mouth or her fingers and she watched as Chrisjen’s body seemed to want to pull away, but she forced herself to stay put, letting herself enjoy this as long as possible until she got too sensitive and couldn’t anymore.

Bobbie had imagined this, what she would sound like, feel like, how her body would move. Reality was nothing like her fantasy, and it was far, far better. She wasn’t planning on having it end so quickly, even when Chrisjen started grabbing at the sheets, trying to pull back. Her thighs slammed shut around Bobbie’s head and one of her hands pushed against Bobbie’s forehead.

“Bobbie,” she gasped. Bobbie grinned and pulled her fingers out, pushing her legs away from her head, holding them in a tight grip before she released Chrisjen’s clit and looked up at her. Chrisjen let out a shaky breath of relief and fell back onto the bed.

“Sensitive?” Chrisjen huffed and it sounded almost like a laugh.

“Yes.” Feeling very smug, Bobbie smirked and swiped her tongue over Chrisjen’s pussy, tasting her come, over her swollen clit. Chrisjen twitched and whimpered, quickly cupping Bobbie’s chin to pull her head up.

“Too sensitive?” Bobbie asked as grabbed Chrisjen wrist and pinned it to bed. She didn’t wait for Chrisjen’s answer. She just returned her attention to her pussy, flicking her tongue against her clit, softer, but her intent was clear. She wanted to make her come again. Chrisjen always expected above and beyond from everybody and she was going to get it.

“Oh no. No. I can’t.” It sounded almost like a plea, whimpering as shuddered with every move of Bobbie’s tongue. She could, she absolutely could, Bobbie was going to make sure of it. She knew what it was like to be too sensitive, but Chrisjen wasn’t there yet. She built her up again, slowly, keeping her touch light until Chrisjen’s whimpers turned into moans and her hips moved towards her mouth, craving more.

Bobbie released Chrisjen’s wrist and curled her arm around her thigh as she wrapped her lips around her clit again. Chrisjen’s hands were back in her hair, holding her close. Bobbie didn’t stop or ease up. Going down on women was easily one of her favorite things to do and now that it was Chrisjen, it had never been better. It turned her on more, the way it felt, the way it made her feel, it seemed more powerful now.

All too soon Bobbie noticed the signs that Chrisjen was close, the way her muscles in her legs tensed, how the noises she made became a little higher and a little more strained. Bobbie made sure to keep looking up Chrisjen’s body, reading all the expression on her face, catching whispered obscenities. She couldn’t look away. Especially when Chrisjen fell silent again as if she were unable to get a sound out, unable to breathe properly for a moment before moaning loud enough to make Bobbie hope the walls were soundproof as she came.

It wasn’t as explosive as the first time, but it also wasn’t any less strong judging from the way Chrisjen moved, the way her clit pulsed against Bobbie’s tongue. She lasted shorter than last time though, yanking hard on Bobbie’s hair to get her mouth away. Bobbie let her this time, watching as her body still spasmed. She rolled onto her side, muttering something about it being enough. Bobbie smiled and kissed her thigh and her hip, before crawling up her body and pressing a kiss to her shoulder as well.

“We should have done that sooner,” Chrisjen said, sounding a little dazed, but her eyes were focused on Bobbie as she reached out to pull her down for a kiss that made Bobbie’s toes curl. “You are wearing too many clothes. Take them off.”

There was no arguing with that tone. Bobbie almost gave in to the urge to salute her and say ‘yes ma’am’, but instead decided to just move off the bed very fast and whip off her bra. Chrisjen was watching her, looking at her as if she wanted to eat her alive which Bobbie sincerely hoped she was going to do. As she stripped off her pants and underwear, Chrisjen kept her eyes on her while she unhooked her thigh highs from her garter belt and rolled them down her legs. It was so effortlessly sexy, it made Bobbie want go for a third round, but the determination on Chrisjen’s face told her it was her turn now.

Chrisjen raised herself up on her knees, not a stitch of clothing on her, her hair a mess, her makeup smudged and she had never looked more beautiful. Bobbie got back on the bed and leaned in to kiss her again when Chrisjen stopped her. She put her fingers on Bobbie’s jaw instead, a soft barely there touch. She moved them down, trailing them over Bobbie’s throat, tracing her collarbones. Her touch left goosebumps in its wake and Bobbie felt her nipples tighten long before Chrisjen even came close to them.

She was exploring Bobbie’s body, taking it all in with the lightest of touches, almost as if she were afraid this wasn’t quite real. Bobbie could understand that feeling. Chrisjen slowly circled her nipple and let her thumb brush over it. Bobbie inhaled sharply, that simple movement setting her body on fire. After a moment, Chrisjen’s gaze moved back to her face and the desire written on it nearly knocked the breath out of Bobbie. She knew Chrisjen wanted her, but that look was so unguarded, so real, it was almost too much.

“Lie down. On your stomach.” The sound of Chrisjen’s voice took her a little off guard, she had been so focused on the expression on her face, but Bobbie nodded, despite not really knowing what Chrisjen was up to. She lay down, resting her head on her arms, probably looking more relaxed than she felt. She was practically vibrating with anticipation and now she couldn’t see what Chrisjen was doing.

For a moment there was nothing and then she felt Chrisjen’s hair brushing against her back followed by her breasts as Chrisjen hovered over her and then leaned down to kiss behind Bobbie’s ear. Bobbie curled her hands into fists and moaned. Apparently Chrisjen was going straight for kill, kissing the most sensitive areas, the shell of her ear, the back of her neck. She had her tongue curling around Bobbie’s earlobe, teeth scraping along the tendon in Bobbie’s neck.

“God, Chrisjen,” she moaned. She had been reduced to only being able to tremble and shake in a matter of moments. Chrisjen was always effective and efficient, not wasting time to get to her goal and she was exactly the same now. Her teeth sunk almost delicately into the skin where neck met her shoulder as she moved her hand between their bodies, between Bobbie’s legs, not touching just yet despite the fact that she tried to roll her hips closer.

“Are you wet for me?” Bobbie widened her eyes. How was it possible that in all the months she had thought about having sex with her, all the scenarios she had run in her head from having a quickie in her office or her car to being able to have her for an entire night, she had somehow never imagined Chrisjen talking dirty. And with her voice. She felt both stupid and so turned on at the same time.

“Yes, so wet.” She was. She didn’t need to touch herself to know. Just kissing Chrisjen had that effect on her, but seeing her naked, fucking her, making her come, she had to be dripping by now. She got a soft hum as a response. Chrisjen pressed her fingers against Bobbie’s pussy. She didn’t move them, didn’t tease, she just held them there as her lips wandered over Bobbie’s shoulder blade.

“Hmm, you are. What made you this wet? Was it teasing me, fucking me? Making me come? Was it your fantasy finally coming true after so many months?” Chrisjen moved her mouth to Bobbie’s spine, moving down it with kisses and licks, making Bobbie shiver and feel like liquid heat was coursing through her veins.

“All of it,” she gasped just as Chrisjen circled her clit with a single finger, enough pressure to make Bobbie twitch, but gentle enough to have it just be teasing. Bobbie tried getting closer to her fingers, but Chrisjen simply moved with her, keeping the pressure the same. She felt Chrisjen’s lips in the hollow of her back, her tongue leaving a trail down to her tailbone, teeth teasing the skin just above her ass as her finger continuously moved over clit.

“And how do you want me to make you come?” Oh god. She was going to make her choose when Bobbie had the feeling that her brain had left the building. It had turned to something entirely useless because of Chrisjen’s actions and it wasn’t getting any better when Chrisjen’s lips brushed over the curve of her ass. There were so many things she could ask for, so many things she wanted to do, but as it was, with Chrisjen literally kissing her ass, she could only think of one thing.

“Your mouth. Use your mouth.” She could feel Chrisjen smile against her and she was almost certain it was because she had sounded so desperate. She didn’t care. She was desperate. When Chrisjen first started, she thought it wouldn’t take long, but the woman had changed tactics, started talking, taking her time, teasing her. She needed more and she needed Chrisjen’s mouth.

“Is that what you fantasized about, how my mouth would feel on you? How I would eat your pussy?” Bobbie nodded, not sure if Chrisjen could actually see her. She had fantasized about it, far too often. Chrisjen’s mouth was lethal when it came to words. In her fantasies, in her dreams it had been just as lethal when it came to sex. Chrisjen gave her one last bite to the back of her thigh. “Turn over.”

Oh thank god. She wanted to see Chrisjen while she did this. Bobbie rolled over, ensuring she didn’t accidentally hit Chrisjen in the head with her leg. It was then that she noticed she was already shaky and Chrisjen hadn’t even gone down on her yet, but that wasn’t going to take long. Chrisjen immediately settled between her legs, dragging her nails up the inside of Bobbie’s thighs until she reached her pussy. Bobbie bit back a whimper.

Chrisjen looked up at her, her eyes locked on Bobbie’s, as if she were silently telling Bobbie to not look away. Bobbie was pretty sure she couldn’t even if she wanted to. Chrisjen had her pinned in place with those big eyes of hers as she moved her hair over one shoulder. Bobbie didn’t realize she had been holding her breath until Chrisjen ran her fingers over her pussy, spreading her lips and exposing her clit to her tongue.

“Oh shit,” Bobbie moaned when Chrisjen mouth covered her sex, her tongue perfectly connecting with clit. Chrisjen hadn’t even looked at it and somehow it couldn’t have been more perfect, the way her tongue touched her clit, the way she licked and sucked, it was like she knew exactly what Bobbie liked. It wasn’t soft or teasing or anymore. She was back to what Bobbie expected her to be, setting herself a goal and just going for it.

To Bobbie that meant that it was too much. Chrisjen’s mouth on her, the tip of tongue teasing against her clit as she sucked, it was too much. Even her fantasies hadn’t prepared her for this, for the way Chrisjen’s mouth felt on her pussy. For the way Chrisjen looked between her thighs. She was so close in no time at all. She had never been this close to coming so quickly. Bobbie could have blamed it the fact that she hadn’t had sex for a long time, but she knew it was Chrisjen.

She held on to the pillow behind her head, desperately using it to be able to keep looking at Chrisjen. The muscles in her stomach were spasming. She felt the first waves of her orgasm starting to move through her body when Chrisjen stopped, pulling away. “What are you doing?”

“How badly do you want to come?” Was she serious? She wanted it so much she had half a mind to finish it herself. Chrisjen was looking at her expectantly, her chin wet and her lips glistening and goddamn, if that wasn’t one of the hottest things Bobbie had ever seen.

“So badly. I was so fucking close.” And she needed to come. She needed Chrisjen’s mouth back on her or her fingers. She didn’t even care. She needed it. Chrisjen smirked.

“I know. I could feel it.” Chrisjen licked the tip of her finger and lightly moved it over Bobbie’s clit. Bobbie’s hips snapped up and she cried out, the feeling almost too much to handle. The touch disappeared a moment later. Chrisjen was playing with her, she wanted something and Bobbie hoped she knew what it was.

“Oh god. Please, make me come.” There, she was begging. That had to be it. Chrisjen smiled and covered her clit with her mouth. Bobbie was going to get her for making her beg. She was going to make Chrisjen do the same thing once they could be together. She knew how to draw things out and Chrisjen was so very impatient, but also incredibly stubborn. She was going to have fun pushing Chrisjen’s limits.

But until then, Chrisjen was skillfully fucking her with her mouth and rapidly bringing her back to the edge, moaning against her. The sound traveled all the way up Bobbie’s spine and raised the hair on the back of her neck, made her nipples even harder. Chrisjen didn’t stop making sounds, humming, moaning softly as if she was enjoying what she was doing as much as Bobbie was.

Her orgasm hit her like a freight train. It was everywhere in her body, from her toes to her fingers that were probably tearing the pillow apart and for the first time she had to look away from Chrisjen’s face, her head snapping back. She wasn’t in control of her body anymore, everything was focused on Chrisjen’s mouth and it felt amazing. She was making noises she barely recognized as her own.

When she came back to herself, Chrisjen was still between her legs, but she had pushed herself up, evidence of Bobbie’s come on her face. Bobbie gestured for her to come closer, her fingers aching from the tight hold she had had on the pillow. Chrisjen moved on top of her and Bobbie wrapped her arms around her and kissed her, tasting herself on her lips and her tongue.

“You are definitely not straight. Holy shit,” Bobbie said, still feeling the aftershocks of her orgasm. Chrisjen chuckled and kissed the corner of her mouth. Bobbie traced her spine with her fingertips and sighed. “How do I go back to working for you after that?”

“Now do you see why I wanted to wait?” Bobbie nodded. Yeah. Of course, neither of them had known it would be like this, but waiting probably would have been the smart thing. She was going to work with Chrisjen knowing what she tasted like, how fantastic she was in bed. Chrisjen smiled and combed her fingers through Bobbie’s hair. “But I don’t regret this. It going to be fucking difficult to treat you like my second assistant again though.”

“Two weeks right?” Maybe Chrisjen had magically managed to shorten the time of a two weeks’ notice, but she doubted it.

“Hm, two fucking weeks.”

“We can do that.” Chrisjen met her halfway for a kiss and Bobbie didn’t plan on letting it end anytime soon. She just had this night to get her through the next two weeks and she was going to make the most of it.


	12. Chapter 12

_A year and two weeks later_

Bobbie unlocked the door to the townhouse and smiled when she saw the Book already on the table. She picked it up and walked up the staircase, past the photographs which now included a slightly tilted photo of her and Chrisjen taken by Kiki on her grandmother’s phone. Chrisjen wasn’t in the living room where she normally was, so Bobbie dumped the Book on the sofa and went up another flight of stairs where she saw that the door to Kiki’s room was ajar. She waited outside it and listening to Chrisjen’s low voice, gently reassuring her granddaughter. The girl sometimes had nightmares and Chrisjen without fail would be there to comfort her.

“She alright?” Bobbie asked when Chrisjen exited the room and quietly closed the door behind her. Her dress was a little rumpled, her shoes and stockings were gone and there wasn’t a trace left of the Editor in Chief. This was just Chrisjen.

“She will be.” Chrisjen placed her hands on Bobbie’s hips and raised herself up on her toes to capture Bobbie’s lips in a slow kiss. “Hi.”

“Hey.”

“Did you have a good time with your friends?” Over the past year her group of friends had changed some or it had grown anyway. Drummer was now always there, sitting next to Naomi. Prax was there a few times, though he wasn’t really a grabbing a beer with bunch of people type of person. And since she had quit Runway, Bobbie invited Cotyar as well, because she missed him and he seemed to get along with everybody well enough. They tried to meet up as often as they could and one a few very rare occasions, Chrisjen joined them for a little bit, with varying degrees of success.

A lot had changed in a year. Bobbie had gotten a job writing for the Huffington Post. The board of Mao-Kwikowski had wanted to put Chrisjen in charge of the whole company, temporarily at first, but with an expectation of making it permanent. But Chrisjen had fought that, installed a semi-competent leader who listened to her advice instead. And they had gone public with their relationship which had been a wild ride, but worth it. The paparazzi had been mostly shocked to discover that Chrisjen wasn’t straight and had promptly started to speculate about who else Chrisjen could have dated. They had had a good laugh about some of the more ridiculous suggestions.

“Yeah. We always do. Amos wished you were there.”

“Amos just wants to make inappropriate remarks and stare at my tits.” It was no use denying it. Amos and Chrisjen had a strange relationship that Bobbie didn’t quite understand, but it consisted of Amos making some sexual comments and checking her out while Chrisjen was usual profane self and pretended to be annoyed by him. Nobody really understood it, but it was entertaining to see Amos try to rattle Chrisjen.

“You like him.” Chrisjen rolled her eyes and sat down on the sofa, ignoring the Book. She would get to it later. She always did. Bobbie hesitated and of course, Chrisjen saw and narrowed her eyes.

“What is it? You look like you’re trying to tell me something and you’re indecisiveness is making me fucking nervous.” Alright. It wasn’t like she had bad news or anything, just news that might change things a little for them and a lot for her.

“Holden was there. He, he offered me a job. Sort of. He is working on something big and he wants my help. But it would mean quitting my current job and going freelance. And it might also mean that I have to go abroad for a few weeks, maybe longer.” He hadn’t given her a lot of details, because he wanted to wait until she took the job and though Bobbie had wanted to take it immediately, she had wanted to talk about it with Chrisjen first who somehow didn’t seem at all surprised by anything Bobbie had just said. She would never get used to Chrisjen somehow knowing everything before Bobbie did.

“Do you want to do it?”

“Yeah, I think so. Yes.” It was Holden. He was a little strange, but he was a good guy and he had sort of joined their group as well. And it would be different from anything she had done before. She figured now was the time to still be experimenting with what kind of journalist she wanted to be and an opportunity like this, it wouldn’t come knocking on her door every day. She wanted this, even if meant leaving New York and Chrisjen for a little while.

“Then you should do it. Holden has a severe white knight syndrome, but he is a good writer and somehow he always finds himself stumbling into large, career-making stories. Working with him, it can only be good for you,” Chrisjen said and then patted the spot beside her on the sofa. Bobbie sat down and Chrisjen took one of her hands in her own. “As for you going abroad, I think we can handle a few weeks apart. I’ll be here when you get back.”

“I know.” Their relationship was solid, more than solid really, so absolutely strong enough to handle being apart for a few weeks. That didn’t mean Bobbie had to like it. She looked at their hands and took a deep breath. “I was also thinking that I might be here when I get back, permanently.”

Okay, that she hadn’t really planned on saying. It was more of a spur of the moment thing, but as soon as she said it, she realized she meant it and that she wanted it. Chrisjen raised her eyebrows, but she didn’t seem to be surprised in a bad way. “You want to move in with me?”

“I wouldn’t give up my apartment. I sort of need my own space to work, but I would officially live here.” Besides she wouldn’t want to put Alex through finding a roommate or having to move and as much as she loved being here with Chrisjen, every once in a while, she felt out of place. She didn’t belong in a big townhouse and whenever that hit her, she would go to her apartment. She would still like to be able to do that, even if those moments happened less and less.

“Doesn’t sound like much would change.” Bobbie glared at her, even though she was right. She did spend most of her time at Chrisjen’s house outside of work. She was here most nights, had clothes here, even had space cleared for her in the bathroom, but she didn’t officially live here. Chrisjen smiled and squeezed her hand. “I would love it if you moved in with me and Kiki.”

Bobbie couldn’t help the wide smile that appeared on her face. A little over a year ago she had thought all of this was impossible, that ever being with Chrisjen would be nothing more than a fantasy and here she was, in a relationship with the woman, about to officially move in with her. She wanted to celebrate and figured the best way to do that was to cup Chrisjen’s cheek and kiss her. Sometimes this still felt like a dream, but the best one she had ever had.

“Do you realize it’s been a year since we officially started this?” Bobbie remembered that night vividly. It had been her last day at Runway, waiting for the Book when she had gotten a text from Chrisjen on her private phone saying she should deliver the Book upstairs this time. Neither of them had gotten much sleep that night. Not that long after they had started going on actual dates in public and it had turned into an actual relationship.

“I do. It’s fucking hard to nail down an anniversary date when we’ve got a couple.” More than a couple, their first kiss in Paris, the first time they had sex, the first time they could be together without it jeopardizing Chrisjen’s career, their first official date. When people who weren’t their friends asked when they got together it was always interesting to think of a moment that worked and was appropriate.

“Does it matter?”

“No, it doesn’t. Neither of us is a romantic or one for grand gestures. I don’t think we need a date to show what we feel for each other.” Bobbie would beg to fucking differ that Chrisjen wasn’t one for grand gestures, but she supposed that might just be a difference in their incomes. Paying to have a rooftop cleared out so they could have a private dinner was a lot easier to do for Chrisjen than it was for Bobbie. Or to have some local New Zealand beers flown in for her. No grand gestures, sure. But it was true that neither of them were the candles, roses and lovey dovey type.

“It’s nice to remember though.” Even if they hadn’t settled on a date for an official anniversary yet.

“Are you afraid you’re going to forget Paris? Or what happened when your two weeks were up?” Chrisjen ran her fingers up Bobbie’s thigh, a look in her eye that she wasn’t going to be spending much time with the Book tonight. Bobbie grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer, until Chrisjen was basically forced to straddle her thighs. Forget Paris? Or their reunion? Or anything that had happened before then or since? Bobbie smiled and ran her hands up Chrisjen’s thighs, pushing up her dress.

“Never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo this was it. I wrote most of this in a crazy rush when we were still mostly in lockdown, so blame Covid-19 for this. I had a lot of fun writing this. I hope y'all had fun reading it. And maybe I'll play in this universe again. Who knows.


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